


How Many MIT Graduates does it take to Screw in a Lightbulb?

by jane_x80



Series: Couples Therapy [4]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Friendship, M/M, Secret Relationship, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5839096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim McGee feels like he is missing something, something important about Tony. Something that has been there since Tony and Gibbs went to Couples Therapy. And he is determined to find out what it is he's missing.</p>
<p>Takes place starting the Monday after Gibbs and Tony speak to Frank Brenner in Conversations with a Therapist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another story in the Couples Therapy 'verse. McGee has some pretty wild speculations and needs to find out the truth. I know some of you were disappointed that Tony and Gibbs did not tell their friends about their relationship/marriage, so hopefully you like this story.

Special Agent Timothy McGee has had a feeling that something is not as it seems for some time now. Ever since the Gerald Stowe case, where Tony and Gibbs went undercover as a married couple needing couples therapy, he has felt that things are different somehow. He has felt perhaps even displaced, personally. There are times now when Bishop will respond to something that Tony might say with a sharp look at Tony, which the man blithely ignores. And if McGee asks her about it, she does not provide a real response. His conclusion: Bishop knows something about Tony and she isn’t telling him what it is.

Bishop knows something that he does not and this fact alone bothers him more than he would care to admit, even to himself. After all, Tony has been his Senior Field Agent for much longer than he has been Bishop’s. If anybody should know a deep dark secret about Tony, should it not be him? Haven’t they been enjoying a much closer relationship in the last couple of years or so? He knows he had thought they had a pretty good friendship now, after all these years of working together. So why does he not know something that Bishop knows?

McGee mulls things over as he drives in to work on a Monday morning. Frank Brenner, the therapist who had been the main target of their op had been in the office on Friday, and Tony and Gibbs had walked off with the man. He wonders how that conversation went, although it couldn’t have been a long talk as they did get called to a case soon after.

Regardless, McGee had noticed Bishop watching Tony and Gibbs like a hawk, openly staring at them as they walked to the elevator with Brenner. And when McGee had gone over to ask her what she knew, she had excused herself to go to the ladies room. Again with the not answering his questions!

What is he missing? McGee wonders as he struggles through stop-and-start traffic that is the norm in the beltway on Monday morning.

He thinks back to the Stowe op, his long fingers tapping absently to the music playing softly in the background. Tony had basically prostituted himself and his issues in order to (successfully) sell their cover, and Gibbs had more than adequately played the concerned husband, someone who had been hurt by Tony’s inability to talk openly about himself. This inability is certainly a true statement of the real Tony DiNozzo, McGee thinks. The only surprise there was Gibbs’ and Tony’s use of one of Tony’s real problems to convince the good doctor that they needed counseling sessions more urgently.

After the op, Tony had been in the hospital for a day or so, having been injected with rohypnol and some sedatives, and Gibbs had practically not left his side the entire time, which really, is nothing new. Gibbs always stays by Tony’s bedside when he is hospitalized or sick. Hell, Gibbs does this for the entire team, not just for Tony. But McGee cannot deny to himself that Gibbs has always seemed to have a real soft spot for a sick or injured Tony DiNozzo. Tony is the only one who ever stays at Gibbs’ house for days on end to recuperate. Come to think, Tony is the only one who ever stays at Gibbs’ house for any kind of issue with his apartment: boiler exploding, heater not working, fumigation, elevator fritzing, for instance. In all the years that McGee has known Gibbs, it would never occur to him to ask him if he can crash at his house for a few days for any reason. He would most likely stay at a hotel or even with Tony, rather than voluntarily stay overnight at Gibbs’ unless there was absolutely no other choice. And if that happened, he would be sure to scram as soon as he possibly could. But Tony has always been different. He seemed to have always had carte blanche when it came to staying over at Gibbs’, something he seemed to even look forward to. And Gibbs is definitely not someone who would make someone feel welcome if they were not, in fact, welcome. So he must like having Tony over at his house.

McGee ponders this for a moment. Why is it that Tony always goes to Gibbs when he is in trouble? He had always thought that it is because Tony is practically all alone in this world, having a rather good-for-nothing, albeit super charming father. So perhaps it is no wonder that Tony gravitates towards the older Gibbs, as a substitute father figure, perhaps? But now, McGee thinks back to the nature of the thorough kisses that both men had exchanged after their final therapy session (all the while, Stowe was already hiding in Tony’s car, ready to inject him with drugs and steal him away for his own nefarious purposes) and begins to doubt the father-son theory. No, those kisses had had absolutely nothing paternal to them. They had seemed to be real kisses, kisses that lovers exchange in order to reassure and comfort each other. Kisses that, if he recalls correctly, Gibbs had initiated (and not Tony), perhaps in order to comfort Tony after he had managed to emotionally twist himself into a pretzel for the sake of the case? McGee knows that he himself has exchanged kisses of that nature with Delilah, especially soon after the explosion that had paralyzed her, and now he looks forward to those kinds of after a difficult day at work.

So maybe Gibbs and Tony are lovers?

His brain shies far, far away from that. No way. There is no way. Gibbs has had four wives. All women. All very beautiful, strong-willed women. He has had girlfriends – well, perhaps ‘girlfriend’ is a strong word, but certainly he has had lovers during the time that McGee has known him. Women lovers. All of them beautiful, strong women. Most of them redheads, although he has been known to make exceptions. So surely Gibbs, Marine, gruff, redhead-loving, four-wived, ultra-heterosexual Gibbs could not be carrying a torch for their very own Casanova, Tony DiNozzo?

Or could he?

After all, people could swing both ways. And Gibbs surely would not have been one to show that side of him to anyone, given his age and his Marine background? Could Gibbs secretly swing both ways? And even if he did, why would he swing towards Tony? Tony isn’t even a redhead!

McGee shakes his head, trying to dispel the notion that Gibbs is anything but a man’s man, a Marine to the core, an alpha male with a harem of very female, red-headed exes.

As for Tony, well, he has had a parade of very beautiful women during his tenure at NCIS. McGee has witnessed his apparently irresistible and potent charm when he turns his attention on the fairer sex. Somehow, despite his oftentimes crass ways and ridiculously childish behavior, women seem to trip over themselves to please him. Even very hot women. And he had always been happy enough to indulge. Granted, he has calmed down some in recent years, perhaps even carrying on relationships in secret, because that is how Tony is. He will describe in great and explicit detail his sexual exploits with random one night stands, but if he actually cares about someone, he is as close-mouthed as Gibbs about it, actively hiding relationships with people that he actually has feelings for, because in his strange and twisted head, feelings make him vulnerable and is therefore something to be avoided. A product of a sad and lonely childhood filled with neglect, abandonment and disappointment, Tony shies away from love and happiness. Even McGee knows this.

McGee shakes his head, thinking about the fact that even now, when Tony is arguably no longer in his prime (especially compared to McGee himself, a younger, trimmer, dare he say hotter man than Tony, not that he was actually thinking about comparing Tony’s level of hotness with his own, or even putting the word “hotness” and Tony in the same sentence, although there he’s gone and done it twice in this thought now), and no longer for the most part even trying to flirt with every sweet hot thing on legs (and why is that, anyway? When did Tony stop hitting on every good looking woman?), women still seem to throw themselves at him, even women half his age. It does say something about Tony’s maturity level that he seems more disturbed by than attracted to the pretty college co-eds that still occasionally offer themselves to him.

But, despite his history with hot women, Tony did sort of admit to experimenting with guys in college. During their prep for the Stowe undercover op, he’d offered to kiss McGee, claiming an ability to kiss anyone convincingly, which McGee had quickly turned down. But he had put it out there, his willingness to kiss anybody, man or woman. While McGee would rather not think about this, he does know that Tony has, over the course of their years at NCIS, been hit on by men, and has never seemed to have a problem flirting back. Especially if the guy in question was good looking, and especially if the guy was a witness or a suspect that they needed to get information from. So perhaps Tony has just been very good at hiding the fact that some of his one night stands had been men?

Could that even be true?

McGee’s brow furrows as he pulls into the parking lot at the Navy Yard. It is time to stop pondering this, and get to work. He wonders if perhaps he should speak to Abby since Bishop is not being terribly forthcoming. Part of him worries that Abby will not want to speak to him about this either, in which case then he will be the only one in Tony’s inner circle who does not know whatever this secret is that Bishop knows. And he does not know if his little ego can take that. Being the only one who does not know whatever it is that Bishop (and maybe Abby) knows.

He hates that all these years later, Tony still has the ability to make him feel this way. Back when he started with the MCRT, Tony and Kate had been close, bickering like siblings, and both collectively picking on him and always making him feel like the unimportant little brother. He feels a pang of sadness thinking about poor, lost Kate and wonders if Tony and Kate had ever had a thing or if Kate had known about this possible other side of Tony. Being left out of whatever it is that Tony doesn’t want him to know makes him feel like the first-year stuttering probie that he had been and this now makes him want to go on the offensive, to find out this secret one way or another. He is an investigator, after all. Tony has trained him well.

He reaches over to grab his backpack and climbs out of his car, closing the door and locking it. He stands for a moment, gathering his thoughts, putting his work face on, before striding to the elevator bank.

As he waits for the elevator, a strange idea strikes him.

The kissing, at the end of the Stowe op had seemed more intimate than anything that he has ever seen Tony or Gibbs share in front of anybody. Both men are intensely private about their real private lives. So could they perhaps, have started, some kind of non-platonic relationship _during_ the case?

McGee’s heart begins pounding. This could be it! The secret that Bishop had somehow found out, perhaps since she had been at Stowe’s house during their rescue of Tony, while he, McGee, had been stuck at Headquarters, coordinating all the tech stuff before heading out with Balboa’s team to process the scene? And perhaps this is why she keeps giving Tony such piercing looks that both Tony and Gibbs are ignoring?

McGee blows out a breath, eyes wide. Surely not! Surely Gibbs would not start this kind of a relationship with Tony, of all people! Tony DiNozzo, he of the one night stands, the perpetual frat boy, the prankster, the womanizer, the person with more commitment issues than any ten other people that McGee knows put together.

It’s no secret that Tony has been in love with Gibbs forever, McGee thinks. He had just always thought that Tony’s love for Gibbs was more of a mentee-mentor, son-father love. But even if Tony loved Gibbs _in that way_ , why would Gibbs even entertain the idea of relationship with (a) a man, and (b) a man like Tony DiNozzo? Tony is someone seemingly the polar opposite of Gibbs, or what Gibbs would or should look for or need in a woman (or a man). Gibbs would be better off seeking someone quiet, mousy, someone who would take his brand of bastardism (is that even a word?) without complaint. Someone who would be understanding of the great loss of his life, of the dark shadow cast by Shannon and Kelly, dying the way they’d died, something that Gibbs has never gotten over. And Tony DiNozzo does not fit into that category at all.

So why would Gibbs want a relationship with someone like Tony?

McGee sucks in a breath through his teeth. No. Tony is not in a relationship with Gibbs. Not a non-platonic relationship. Gibbs is Tony’s boss, and that is the end of that.

But then why would Tony hang out with Gibbs after work as much as they seem to, if Gibbs is not at least a little bit fond of Tony?

He does hate that his logic is leading him to this conclusion.

McGee strides into the squad room and finds that despite him being almost ten minutes early, the objects of his musings are both already at work, at their desks. He wishes them both good morning. Tony looks up, smiles at him and wishes him a good morning back while Gibbs gives his customary grunt.

McGee sits down and surreptitiously scrutinizes Gibbs. He looks exactly the same as he always does. Nothing different. Nothing different at all. Although he supposes, he doesn’t really know what he is looking for, so how would he know it if he saw it?

McGee slowly realizes that those laser-sharp blue eyes are now trained on him, and that he has been staring at Gibbs, lost in thought, long enough for the man to feel himself being observed and to catch him doing it. McGee lowers his eyes quickly, and wills his hands to stop trembling. All these years later, he still has a reflexive fear of the wrath of Gibbs, even though he no longer stammers and stutters his way through a sentence when Gibbs speaks to him.

“Need something?” Gibbs asks him, his voice deceptively soft.

“No, Boss,” he says, proud that his voice is strong and he does not stutter.

Gibbs glares at him, his eyes seeming to penetrate right through McGee’s skin. After a moment he looks away, and McGee fears that Gibbs’ famous gut is now turned on to him.

“Heading to MTAC,” Gibbs says gruffly.

“Later, Boss,” Tony says casually, not even looking up from the folder that he is perusing.

At that point, Bishop comes running in, out of breath. “Sorry I’m late, Gibbs,” she pants.

Gibbs looks pointedly at his watch, grunts, and goes up the stairs to MTAC. Bishop drops her backpack and smiles at both McGee and Tony.

“Hey guys, how was your weekend?” Bishop is still all smiles, despite being slightly out of breath.

“Awesome, thanks,” Tony answers, without giving a play-by-play of his weekend. McGee finds Tony’s lack of detail a little disturbing. Tony used to fill them in on his extra-curricular activities with more detail than anybody cared to know. He tries to think back – Tony has been surprisingly close-mouthed about his after-work activities in recent years, keeping details to himself. Only revealing bare-bones outlines of things if pushed.

“Mine was good. Delilah and I went to this technology fair,” McGee says, thinking if he offers some details, perhaps Tony will as well.

“Sounds like heaven for the McGeeks,” Tony quips, grinning. “Did you buy a bunch of new gadgets?”

“Oh yeah, although Delilah claims she has access to better stuff. I figure I can modify this stuff at home and see what else I can make it do.”

“Sounds like fun, Probie,” Tony grins at him. He looks at Bishop, looking her up and down, then grins wickedly at her. “You, ProBish, had a date this weekend!” he crows. “And that is why you were late this morning!”

Bishop colors. “How did you know that?” she glares at him.

Tony shrugs, the movement elegant and casual. “Looks like it was a good date. A long one too.”

“And what did you do, Tony?” McGee asks.

Tony smiles at him. “Had a nice dinner with a friend on Saturday, and then yesterday I went to this exhibition on jazz musicians at the Smithsonian,” his eyes go dreamy. “Then we went out afterwards for some live blues music. It was awesome.” He sighs, rolls his neck, cracking it before he looks back down at his folder. When he stretched his neck to roll it, McGee thinks he sees something.

He goes over to Tony’s desk and gently pushes his head until he sees it clearly. A hickey. On Tony’s neck. Just above the collar of his turtleneck.

“ _’We’?_ ” he asks playfully. “Looks like you did have some fun there, Tony.”

Tony slaps his hand away and grins. “Hands off the goods there, McInappropriate!”

“Seriously, Tony, who’s been sucking on your neck and how come you’re not telling us?” McGee looks to Bishop for support.

To his surprise, Bishop is suddenly focused on her shoes and not looking at Tony at all.

“Bishop?” McGee looks at her curiously. “Don’t you want to help me get Tony to tell us who’s giving him hickeys?”

“Bishop clearly has better things to do than worry about stupid things,” Tony says easily.

McGee frowns at Bishop, more than ever wanting to shake her to make her tell him what she knows, before he turns back to Tony. “Why are you even wearing a turtleneck? It doesn’t even begin to cover that hickey.”

Tony clears his throat, and the tips of his ears turn pink. “Obviously I was trying to be somewhat professional and discreet at work, McGoo,” he tries to pull his turtleneck up higher.

As fast as he can, McGee reaches over and pulls down the collar, exposing a mass of hickeys that the turtleneck was covering. “Jesus!” he exclaims.

“Holy shit, Tony,” Bishop gasps.

Tony pulls his turtleneck back up and glares at McGee and Bishop. “Seriously? We’re gonna worry about who’s been sucking on my neck over the weekend? Get on back to work before Gibbs comes back and headslaps the bejesus out of us.”

Bishop looks at Tony, a deer in headlights expression on her face. Tony looks up, glares at her and shakes his head firmly. She lowers her eyes and returns to her desk quietly.

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” McGee demands. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, Tim,” Tony says quietly. “Get to work.”

“I have to check in with Abby,” McGee says sullenly, glaring at Tony and Bishop.

“You do that,” Tony says. He pulls out a little hand-held cooler from his backpack, extracts a container and opens it. McGee watches as Tony eats a snack of what looks to be greek yogurt, figs, shelled pistachios and honey.

“Tony, seriously, what is going on with you? You’re eating healthy. You’re being so squirrely about who you’re spending time with outside of work. Let me guess, you’re seeing someone, and they’re forcing you to eat healthy?” McGee tries again.

Tony grins at him. “Something like that, McGee,” he says easily. “Although this is pretty damned tasty. And I’m starving.”

“That does looks pretty good, Tony,” Bishop says.

“Want some?” he offers her his spoon.

Bishop comes over and takes a spoonful of the fig/yogurt/pistachio/honey concoction. “Yum,” she says. “That is actually good.”

“It’s no boston kreme donut, but it’ll do,” Tony shrugs, taking his spoon back. He offers it to McGee who shakes his head. He grins and continues to dig into his breakfast like a starving man. “Thought you were going to see Abby?” he speaks around a mouthful of food.

“I’m going,” McGee frowns at his teammates before he starts walking away. He hears Tony asking about Bishop’s date as he heads to the elevator. Tony is definitely keeping secrets and Bishop definitely knows something. He had admitted to there being a ‘we’, although Saturday night dinner had been with a ‘friend’. What kind of friend was he talking about, who he would allow to mark his neck up like that?

McGee slouches into the Forensics lab, automatically turning down Abby’s music as he enters.

“Timmy!” Abby gives him a huge smile and throws her arms around him. “I’m not working on anything for a case for you guys, am I?” suddenly she looks worried.

“No,” McGee assures her. He sits himself down on one of the stools. He looks at her, frowning.

“What’s wrong, McGee?”

“Tony’s hiding something,” McGee finally says. “Do you know what it is?”

Abby shakes her head. “No. He’s been his usual self with me. Which you aren’t! You didn’t even bring me a caf-pow this morning.”

McGee sighs. “Sorry, Abby. I’ll bring you two later.”

She nods. “So tell me why you think Tony is hiding something.”

“He’s wearing a turtleneck today. There’s a huge hickey above the turtleneck collar, and a ton more hidden beneath it.”

“Oooh!” Abby’s face lights up. “Tony’s seeing someone!”

“Thought he broke up with Zoe?”

“I don’t even think they were really dating for real,” Abby frowns, “even though she said so, it didn’t seem as if Tony ever actually backed her up.”

“So who’s giving Tony massive hickeys then? He’s not telling me anything.”

“Well that means he cares about her,” Abby says easily. “Don’t worry, Timmy. He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

“So you don’t know anything then?” McGee looks at her very carefully, trying to see if she is hiding anything from him.

“What’s to know?” Abby is completely open. “Tony is Tony. He won’t tell us jack until he’s ready to. If I pressure him into anything, he’ll just lie to me.”

“Bishop knows something,” McGee says darkly.

“Bishop?” Abby is surprised. “Why would Tony tell Bishop anything about his love life?”

“I don’t know,” McGee is surprised to hear how resentful he sounds. “But she knows something and she refuses to tell me anything.”

“Maybe she found out something and Tony made her swear not to tell?”

“She should still tell us. We’re her teammates.”

Abby looks at McGee. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” she says softly.

McGee nods miserably. “You’d think after all these years that Tony would actually trust me enough to tell me some things, Abby,” he finally says it out loud. “And now, because he doesn’t I’m thinking all these wild speculative thoughts and I’m not liking where I’m going with it.”

“Where are you going with it?”

McGee covers his face with his hands. “Don’t laugh at me if I tell you this?”

“Color me intrigued, Timmy. Spill! What are you thinking?”

McGee spreads his fingers and looks through them at Abby. “I’ve thought it through and the only logical conclusion that I can come up with is, I think Tony is sleeping with Gibbs.”

“What??” Abby screams.

“Shhh!”

Her eyes light up. She purses her lips, and McGee can see her going through the giant archive that is her brain. She’s thinking it through, and giving it serious consideration.

“Hmmm,” she says, frowning thoughtfully now. “Since the Stowe case?”

“I was thinking maybe it started during the case?”

“With all the kissing and playacting that they had to do,” Abby says softly. “Could be.”

“What???” McGee yells. “You’re supposed to tell me I’m crazy! There is no way that Gibbs would _ever_ sleep with Tony! I mean sure, I could see Tony throwing himself at the Boss, but for Gibbs to entertain that?”

Abby purses her lips. “I don’t know, McGee,” she shakes her head. “I may be the Bossman’s favorite, but he sure lets Tony get away with a ton of crap. Maybe even more crap than I can get away with.”

“That doesn’t mean he’d sleep with Tony! He’s _always_ let Tony get away with all that crap. We need to look for behavior that’s different, starting either during or after the Stowe case.”

“Good point,” Abby nods. “We can do that. Anyway, I want to go look at Tony’s hickeys. Come on.”

Abby drags him back to the bullpen. Tony is sitting at his desk, licking his spoon clean absently, as he flips a page in the folder he’s reading through. McGee looks around and notices no fewer than three sets of female eyes watching as Tony’s tongue darts out of his mouth and onto his spoon. And he could be wrong but maybe even a couple of pairs of male eyes were showing interest.

Why is it that Tony still gets such attention even when he isn’t trying? he wonders. Tony is dressed in a loose, dark gray cable-knit turtleneck sweater and dark slacks. Nothing special (other than perhaps the designer and the price tags). But somehow he still has admiring eyes on him as he sits innocuously at his desk, eating yogurt and working through a cold case file.

McGee sighs.

Abby greets Tony enthusiastically, and throws herself into his lap, as only she can get away with. Tony smiles indulgently at her and kisses her cheek.

“Hey Abs,” he greets her happily.

“McGee tells me you have some pretty impressive hickeys. I wanna see,” she tells him bluntly.

Tony glares at McGee before he sighs and stretches his neck, allowing Abby to pull his turtleneck down. Abby whistles admiringly. “Wow, Tony,” she grins at him. “Looks like you had a _good_ weekend.”

McGee tries to stop himself from imagining Gibbs putting hickeys on Tony’s neck. That image is just simply disturbing. Surely his speculations cannot be right!

Tony grins back easily, and pulls his collar back up. “Nothing you wouldn’t have done, Abs,” he tells her.

McGee keeps an eye on Bishop who is ignoring this conversation, very unlike how she should be behaving. She should be pouncing on Tony and asking for more details along with Abby and him, but instead she is studiously ignoring Tony and hasn’t even mentioned the hickeys. He sees that she is even faintly blushing.

She knows something, he narrows his eyes at her. She really does.

“You’re gonna need turtlenecks all this week, I’m thinking,” Abby continues. “Unless you use concealer after they’ve faded some.”

Tony shrugs. “Eh, I’ll figure something out,” he sounds unconcerned.

“What’s Gibbs gonna say if he knows the extent to which you have been marked, Tony?” Abby says. “You know he doesn’t like this kind of display at work.”

“Well, then I’ll make sure he doesn’t know the extent to which I have been marked,” he replies. “Hey, take a look at this for me, will you?” he points to something in the case file. “Is that what I think it is?”

Abby looks and hums thoughtfully. “I think you might be right, Tony,” she frowns. “Who processed this evidence? It wasn’t me, was it? I don’t remember this case.”

“No, Metro handed this off to NCIS late. Another team caught it, but then it went cold. Metro’d apparently already fucked up the evidence by the time we got this.”

“I’ll take a look at it again. You might have found something, Tony,” Abby clicks a pen, grabs a post-it pad off Tony’s desk, and writes the case number on it. “You’re still not going to tell us who your super secret girlfriend is?” Abby asks him.

“I don’t have a super secret girlfriend, Abs,” he tells her absently, attention still focused on the folder in his hand.

“Super secret boyfriend then?”

Tony shrugs. “Ask Bishop about _her_ awesome date weekend. She’s the one with a super secret boyfriend. I think she found someone to help her forget Jake,” he grins wickedly at Bishop who is now blushing profusely.

“Did Bishop’s super secret boyfriend give her the kind of hickeys that yours seems to have given you?”

“Yeah, I’m not the one wearing a turtleneck today, Tony,” Bishop finally speaks up.

Tony grins easily. “You know me. I’m easy.”

“No you’re not, Tony DiNozzo,” Abby says fiercely. “You’re deflecting.”

“Abby,” Tony says, his tone warning.

“I get it. You’re not ready to talk about this,” she nods, “but just so you know, I am here for you.”

“Thanks Abs,” he smiles and kisses her.

“I’m gonna go dig up the evidence and look into this for you,” Abby stands and waves the post it note in her hand. “I think you might have broken this cold case wide open if what you suspect is right! Bishop, you’re going to have lunch with me soon so you can tell me all about this new super secret boyfriend of yours!”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Bishop says defensively.

“Fuck buddy? Even better! I’ll need details. Explicit details.”

“Only Tony does that,” McGee says.

“Not anymore, he doesn’t,” Abby says, frowning thoughtfully at Tony. “You haven’t entertained us with your sexual exploits in a while, Tony-boy.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to tell,” Tony says, his eyes still on the cold case file. “Huh, Abby, can you also check this thing out?” he stands up and points something else out in the folder.

Abby frowns and scribbles more things on the post it. “Got it, Tony. I’m on this.” She kisses his cheek, turns and runs off, her mind full of the case. Tony sits back down in his chair and frowns at the folder in his hands.

McGee leans on the edge of Tony’s desk and waits until his SFA looks up, green eyes questioning. “Don’t think I’m giving up on this, Tony,” he tells him quietly. “I know Bishop knows something. I know you’re not telling me something and it’s big. I’m going to find out what it is.”

Tony gives him a lazy look before he turns his eyes back to his cold case, the unspoken insult almost a slap in McGee’s face. “Get back to work. Tons of cold cases awaiting you today, McGeek.”

McGee stalks back to his desk, glaring at Bishop who pretends to be engrossed in a case file.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come in the next few days. Story is complete but as always I need time to edit before posting so I'll try to post a chapter a day. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McGee gets Abby to help him and together they try to figure out what is going on with Tony.

A week later, McGee and Abby have a spreadsheet, tracking Tony’s behavior starting from the start of the Stowe op. They also have a tab documenting the foods that he has consumed in the past week, and all of it has been extremely healthy, high energy food. Looking at the behavior sheet, they cannot find anything conclusive pointing to anything new between Tony and Gibbs, not really. However, the food consumption tab shows a very different eating habit than the Tony that they know and love. He has not eaten one single slice of pizza (in fact actually turning down his favorite sausage, pepperoni, extra cheese pizza that Abby had ordered as a test), no donuts, and no junkfoods whatsoever. He has been bringing in his own meals and snacks when cases permit, and if they order takeout his is always a healthy option.

“He’s not on a diet,” Abby says quietly. “In fact, he’s increased his caloric intake with all the nuts and dried fruits, and the constant snacking on turkey roll ups and salmon. He’s had sashimi three times for lunch this week.”

“But this isn’t his normal eating pattern. He hasn’t had a meatball sub or a breakfast burrito in a while now,” McGee frowns.

“No, he’s not on a diet, McGee. He’s in training!” Abby exclaims. “Look! He’s training for something, and that’s why he’s been eating like this.”

“What would he be in training for? And why doesn’t he even talk about this?”

Abby sighs. “I don’t know, but he must have his reasons. It makes sense in his head so he does it. You know how he is,” she bites her lip. “I bet he’s all muscly under all his clothes.”

“I’m not going to be the one to grope him, Abby,” McGee says.

Abby grins at him. “I’m happy to do it, but if we don’t want him to get suspicious, I need a real reason.”

“Reason for what?” Gibbs’ voice makes both Abby and McGee jump, and Abby immediately switches the screen from the Tony observations spreadsheet to evidence that she is processing.

“Reason to grope Tony, Bossman,” Abby tells him, grinning.

“Why would you want to grope DiNozzo?” Gibbs looks at her quizzically.

“Because we’ve noticed his diet changes, and now we think he’s training for something.”

“Something big.”

“And since McGee refuses to grope him to feel if he’s all muscly, and I said I’d be happy to.”

“Who are we groping?” Tony walks in handing Abby a large caf-pow.

“You!” Abby jumps on him and proceeds to squeeze his ass and upper thighs before he pushes her off.

“Abby! What the fuck?” he is outraged, and McGee notices that he flashes a quick, guilty look at Gibbs.

“Oooh, that’s toned,” Abby looks at Tony admiringly. She grins at McGee. “He’s definitely training for something.”

“What the hell is going on?” Tony looks upset now.

“We have a spreadsheet documenting the foods you’ve eaten this past week, Tony,” Abby tells him.

McGee facepalms, groaning.

“We?” Tony glares at Abby and McGee. “You and McBusybody?”

Abby looks contrite. “We noticed you weren’t scarfing down pizza, or beer, or donuts, or burritos. We thought you were on a diet and we were worried about you.”

McGee realizes what Abby is doing. She is feeding Tony and Gibbs only half of the truth, and therefore putting them off the other trail that they are following.

“Maybe it’s time to come clean, DiNozzo,” Gibbs says.

Tony glares at Gibbs before he sighs. “Fine,” he mutters. “I’m doing the triathlon in a week.”

“The Nation’s Triathlon?” McGee is shocked. “Don’t you have to qualify for that?”

“I qualified,” Tony mumbles.

“That’s awesome, Tony!” Abby jumps up and down. “What distance are you doing?”

“Ultra,” came the quiet answer.

“That’s like the Ironman?” Abby asks and Tony nods.

“Fuck!” McGee says, impressed. “You’re really putting yourself through that?”

Tony shrugs. “It makes me train and keeps me fit.”

“It’s not your first triathlon, is it?” Abby asks him.

He shakes his head. “My first Ultra Distance though,” he says sheepishly. “Kind of nervous.”

“Why all the secrecy?” Abby asks curiously.

“Dunno,” Tony shrugs. “Anyway, I came to check on the ballistics report?”

“Wait, can I see what all this training has done to you?” Abby asks. “Come on Bossman. You want to see Tony’s muscles, don’t you?”

Gibbs rolls his eyes, kisses Abby’s cheek and walks out without a word, but not without giving Tony an inscrutable look.

“Come on, take the turtleneck off, Tony,” Abby says, grinning mischievously at him.

Tony glares at her. “If I don’t do this, you’re going to find some way of getting a look, aren’t you?”

Abby shrugs, looking as innocent as she possibly can. “Well, I might have to take matters into my own hands.” She wriggles her fingers suggestively.

He sighs loudly. Finally he shrugs out of his jacket and pulls the sleek turtleneck off. He is barechested underneath, all tanned, golden skinned and fuzzy-chested, and stands at attention, letting Abby inspect him. McGee can’t help thinking how even this behavior is different than the Tony of old – Tony used to be much more cavalier with his body, modesty being only a suggestion, and always ready to bare it all. Here, Tony stands, looking a little self-conscious, perhaps even starting to blush while Abby walks around him in a circle, humming appreciatively, admiring the defined muscles in his shoulders, his arms, his pecs and his abs, feeling him gently here and there. Even McGee had to admit, Tony looks good. Definitely cut. Maybe he should be thankful that the man now chooses to cover himself instead of running around flashing all those muscles at unsuspecting women.

“Very nice, Tony,” she tells him. “All that swimming is paying off.”

“I’m not taking my pants off,” he warns her. “I still don’t believe in underwear, Abs. So the pants are staying on.”

“Oh I already felt your glutes. Very nice there, too,” she grins. She reaches up to touch Tony’s neck. “Those are fading away nicely too.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be back to dress shirts in a couple of days,” he grins.

“Good, cause I want to see more of what training is doing to you,” Abby winks at him.

Tony winks back before he pulls his clothes back on, settling the turtleneck securely around his neck and tucking the bottom neatly into his pants. “Now, about the ballistics report?”

McGee catches Abby’s eye, nods quietly to her and scampers away. He sits at his desk, working on the background checks for the case, all the while his brain is processing this new information. So, half of the mystery has been solved. Tony has been secretly training for a triathlon. Why he thought he needed to keep that secret, McGee will never understand, but this is Tony and he has strange quirks. There are many seemingly innocent little things that he does not like known about him. Apparently this whole triathlon thing is one of them, if this isn’t even his first one. But interestingly, by his reaction, Gibbs seemed to know about this and perhaps even the other triathlons. If so, what does that mean for their working theory that Gibbs and Tony started a relationship during/shortly after the Stowe op? Or maybe Tony and Gibbs are better friends than anybody ever thought and that was it?

McGee has to double check to see if Bishop knows that Tony is doing the triathlon, in case this is the secret that she’s keeping. He’s sure it isn’t, that Bishop knows something even more personal and important than some race Tony is participating in (even if it is one hell of a tough race). He trots over to her desk and waits until she looks up at him.

“Did you know Tony’s doing the triathlon next week?” he asks her.

“What triathlon?” Bishop asks, looking genuinely surprised.

“The one in DC. The Nation’s Triathlon.”

“Huh! Is that why he’s eating so healthy?” she grins. “Although I did like that figgy yogurt thing he had. I might start making that for myself.”

“You didn’t know he was doing the triathlon?”

“Nope,” Bishop looks back down at her screen. “Why would you even think I would know?”

“No reason,” McGee says carefully, and goes back to his desk.

OK. So the secret Bishop knows isn’t anything to do with the triathlon. So what does she know? McGee still wants to know the secret Bishop is harboring. He looks up from the computer screen and frowns at her. She knows who Tony is seeing, and she’s not telling. He and Abby have to find a way to get this information out of her.

That night, after work, they all go out for drinks and dinner. Even Gibbs comes, and so does Abby and Ducky. Tony chooses the salmon option and limits himself to one beer, and is yawning his head off before it is even 2100. McGee watches as Gibbs catches his eye.

“Go on home, DiNozzo,” Gibbs tells him. “Look like you need sleep.”

Tony grins apologetically. “Sorry guys. I get up really early to train so I’m just beat by this time.”

Abby, Bishop and Ducky immediately tell him he should go home and get to bed. Tony grins at everyone, throws some money on the table, and gets up, stretching his lean frame until his spine cracks. McGee notices that Gibbs is staring at Tony, but then so is everyone at their table, and even a few people at neighboring tables.

“See you tomorrow, guys,” Tony flashes his charming smile at the team before he leaves.

“Are you making sure that he is eating well, Jethro?” Ducky asks Gibbs.

“DiNozzo can take care of himself,” Gibbs says curtly.

“But surely…”

“Duck,” Gibbs says, his tone threatening. “DiNozzo is good at taking care of himself. Just ask Abby and McGee for details. They have a spreadsheet of what he’s eaten for the past week.”

Ducky looks at Abby with interest. “Is this true?”

Abby grins unrepentantly. “McGee and I were worried about his change in diet. He refused _pizza_ , Ducky,” Abby’s eyes are wide, her most innocent look. “So we had to figure it out. We put it together from that that he was eating like somebody training for something, and forced him to tell us what was going on.”

“Would you mind sending me the spreadsheet so I can ensure that he is following my recommendations?”

“Of course, Ducky. I’ll zip it to you after dinner.”

“It doesn’t have any information on what he eats before or after work and over the weekend, though Ducky,” McGee says.

“I’m sure Jethro, you can fill in the blanks for me,” Ducky says, smiling.

Gibbs grunts noncommittally before he looks at his phone, holding it away from his face and squinting to read a text. “Gotta go,” he tells them. “Good night.” He puts money down on the table and leaves.

McGee turns to Ducky, frowning at him. “Ducky, why would Gibbs know what Tony’s been eating when he’s not at work?”

“What’s that, Timothy?” Ducky looks at McGee, looking a little wide eyed he thinks.

“I said, why would Gibbs know what Tony’s been eating when he’s not at work?”

“Anthony does go over to Gibbs’ house fairly often, Timothy,” Ducky says reasonably. “You must know that.”

McGee’s eyes narrow. “There’s more to this, Ducky,” he says softly.

“Well, I’m sure Jethro will be able to force Anthony into telling me what I want to know,” Ducky says. “Which reminds me, did I ever tell you about the time when our dear Anthony was accidentally pushed out of an airplane, having never actually gone parachuting before?”

McGee sighs, and listens to Ducky’s story, about how Gibbs had to intimidate Tony into letting Ducky examine his ankle, badly twisted from the botched landing. He vaguely remembers Kate telling him about Tony falling out of an airplane – it might have happened on one of Kate’s first cases with Gibbs and Tony.

Bishop looks up after tapping on her phone. “Well, I’m gonna go,” Bishop says, putting her money on the pile. “I actually have another, uh, date,” she grins happily.

“Booty call? With weekend dude?” Abby asks.

“Maybe,” Bishop grins. “See you guys tomorrow!”

Ducky makes his excuses too. Finally only Abby and McGee are left at the table.

“Ducky knows something too,” Abby says, seeing McGee’s expression.

“Ducky knows something, and so does Bishop,” McGee agrees. “But not you and not me.”

“I don’t like being left out, Timmy.”

“Me neither.”

They stare at each other, now doubly determined to figure out what they are missing.

“Do you think that was Tony texting Gibbs?” McGee says, a little hesitant to voice his thought.

Abby sighs. “Could be. Gibbs never texts.”

“Well, he left after he got the text. And he got the text after Tony left.”

“Could be a coincident.”

“You know Gibbs’ rules about coincidences.”

“Yeah but it still could be a coincident.”

“Do you think it is?”

“I don’t know.”

They sit in silence while the table is cleared and the server brings them their check. Abby gathers the cash left by their friends and adds her share and takes McGee’s money off of him, putting it all neatly in the little folder.

“Why would Ducky think that Gibbs would be able to tell him what Tony’s been eating when he’s not at work, if he’s not with him?” McGee asks quietly. “I don’t buy the whole intimidation story. Do you?”

Abby shrugs. “I mean, sure, Bossman could totally intimidate Tony into telling him stuff. But I agree. Something is hinky. Gibbs didn’t deny that he did in fact know what Tony has been eating.”

“This is making my head hurt, Abby.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Abby says, her tone determined.

“We should try to pump Bishop for information,” McGee narrows his eyes, thinking about the fact that Bishop still knows something that he does not know.

“Is that fair to her?”

McGee pouts. “It’s not. I know. But we can’t really pump Ducky for information. He’s too good. He’ll just tell us a story and we’ll forget our original question.”

“OK,” Abby says slowly. “We take Bishop out to lunch. And we corner her.”

Unfortunately, the next day the MCRT catches a case that has them running around for forty-eight hours straight. By the end of the case, McGee is too exhausted to care about who Tony might be fucking. And now that he has Abby in his corner, the thought of Tony fucking Gibbs is not as disturbing to him anymore. He does a double take and shakes his head. Nope. No way Tony fucks Gibbs. It would always be the other way round. Gibbs would totally be the one in charge, and totally be the one fucking Tony.

He gives himself a hard headslap. Did he just have an internal debate with himself about whether Tony was fucking Gibbs or if Gibbs was fucking Tony? Did he just think about it again? Another headslap. He needs to stop obsessing about this.

They get a day off to make up for the 24/7 workdays, and McGee spends his time gaming online and cooking a nice dinner for Delilah. When they get back to work, Tony comes in looking utterly exhausted.

“What’s going on, Tony?” McGee asks, as he puts his backpack down and walks over to Tony’s desk. Surely Tony and Gibbs haven’t broken up already, and that is why Tony looks like a wreck.

Tony yawns, and rubs his eyes. “I can’t fucking wait till this fucking triathlon is over,” he admits to McGee. “I did the whole thing yesterday. And then I got up early this morning to train.”

“You biked a hundred miles, swam who knows how many miles, and ran a whole fucking marathon yesterday and then you got up early and did what, run another marathon before work?” McGee almost yells.

“Shhh! You don’t have to advertise my stupidity, McGoo! I don’t know what I was thinking,” Tony admits. “But it’s almost time and I hadn’t actually put it all together in one session before. Not in its entirety. The thing is this Sunday. So I had to give it a shot.”

“Fuck, Tony!”

“I know,” Tony says, propping his head up with an elbow, looking completely miserable. “But I did it. And I didn’t run a whole marathon this morning. Just ten miles. And I only swam a half a mile. Couldn’t even bring myself to get on the bike. I hurt, Probie,” Tony whines.

“Why are you pushing yourself so hard to do this?”

“Because I can,” Tony says. “Or I thought I could. Anyway, go away so I can write up my reports and maybe I’ll be so pathetic that Gibbs will let me go home early so I can curl up and die on my bed. Either that or I’ll just curl up and die behind my desk. I don’t really care at this point.”

In the end, Vance hears that Tony is doing the triathlon and gives him the rest of the week off to train for it. He certainly has enough vacation days to burn. Besides, Vance thinks it would be great exposure for NCIS to have one of their senior agents participating in such a trial. In fact, the entire office begins to organize cheering parties, and electrolyte stations. Office pool activity goes crazy with people putting money on Tony’s times for each segment and the entire triathlon. There is even a pool to see the number of women hoping to be Tony’s next girlfriend out there cheering for him as well as the number of exes out there hoping to witness him hurting himself.

On the day of the triathlon, McGee stands with Abby, Jimmy and Bishop and watch as hordes of people begin the race. After swimming in the Potomac, Gibbs is the one to help Tony strip out of his wetsuit and onto his bike. McGee isn’t sure but he thinks Gibbs might have kissed Tony before Tony pedaled away. At the end of the bicycling segment, Gibbs is again there to take Tony’s bike before he starts on the marathon.

After close to ten hours from starting the first leg, Tony crosses the finish line and is helped by race volunteers to recover while Ducky monitors him. When he is finally released, he is surprised to find a large number of people from NCIS and a few of his frat brothers still there, still cheering for him. Including Vance. His time is well above average, and everyone is excited at his performance.

Abby tries to talk him into going out to celebrate with them, but Tony looks utterly drained.

“I’m just going to go home, Abs,” Tony tells her. “Please, can we go out another time? If I go out with you guys today, you’re literally going to have to carry me home in about a half hour.”

Abby looks him over, sees the truth in his words, and kisses him. They agree to go out and celebrate with Tony the next weekend instead. And McGee watches then as Gibbs puts an arm around Tony’s shoulder, grins affectionately at him, and ushers him into his truck. Tony’s bicycle is strapped to the back of the truck. They drive away, Gibbs honking in farewell at Tony’s cheering section.

McGee glances at Abby and nods significantly at that, and she nods back thoughtfully. They agree to divide and conquer. McGee will try to speak to Tony as soon as he can, and Abby will pump Bishop for information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things - there is an annual triathlon in DC and it is called the Nation's Triathlon. They don't go all the way up to the Ultra / Ironman distance, but in this story they do ;). Average time for the Ultra / Ironman distance is 12 hours. Anything under 11 hours is considered very good, but gold medalists can do it in 8+ hours. Tony's time is actually pretty impressive (at least according to google).
> 
> Don't be too mad at McGee. He can't help himself, but he means well. I think. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McGee tries to speak to Tony over pizza while Abby tries to pump Bishop for information, and the fallout of the conversations.

The next day, McGee takes a still tired-looking Tony out to lunch in order to ask him his questions. He and Abby figured that since Tony hasn’t had pizza in a while, buttering him up with his favorite pizza and then asking him the awkward question of whether or not he is sleeping with their boss is the best approach. While they sit and wait for their pizza (Tony is happily looking forward to eating his first pizza again), McGee looks at Tony. He goes over the approach in his head: be serious but gentle, don’t get in Tony’s face or push him into a corner, appear open and accepting, ensure that Tony doesn’t feel defensive. Ensure he has pizza. He must be in his happy place, and unsuspecting of this inquisition, because let’s face it, this is an inquisition.

McGee looks at Tony, trying to project openness and acceptance. His brain is screaming for him to wait until Tony is lulled by his first pizza in who knows how long but his mouth has different ideas. “Are you seeing Gibbs, Tony?” he blurts out him, his eyes serious.

Tony frowns at him. “What?”

Backtrack, Probie! Backtrack! McGee’s brain tells him. And yet his mouth continues on. “Tony, I know the truth.”

“Oh yeah? The truth about what?”

“You and Gibbs. You guys started something during the Stowe op, right? While you were undercover, pretending to be married. You’ve been sleeping with Gibbs since that op.”

“What?” Tony looks genuinely surprised.

“Don’t give me that look,” McGee finds himself telling him, his tone full of scorn. Now McGee feels like he is having an out of body experience. The part of his brain trying to regain control and go back to the accepted strategies has somehow been silenced and perhaps even hogtied to something, and another crazier and far more hostile part has taken over. He feels as if he is watching himself from outside his body, saying things to Tony, and just making it worse with every single sentence. “You’re way too good at undercover for me to buy that look. You and Gibbs are in some kind of relationship now, and it started during the Stowe op.”

“You think Gibbs and I started a relationship during the Stowe op?” Tony repeats, mouth open.

“A sexual one.”

“You think Gibbs and I _started_ a sexual relationship during the Stowe Op?”

“Yep. It’s the only logical conclusion Abby and I can come up with.”

“ _Abby_ thinks so too?”

“We know you’re with Gibbs. So don’t even try denying that.”

“Huh,” Tony stares at McGee, eyes wide.

“I don’t hear you denying anything, Tony.”

To McGee’s surprise (and the sane part of him is relieved), Tony starts laughing. “ _This_ is what you guys think? Let me guess, you and Abby probably have some kind of graph or pie chart documenting my incriminating behavior since the Stowe op?”

“H-how did you know that?”

Tony sighs and pats McGee’s cheek gently. “I know you, Probie,” he smiles. “You’re cute. I’ll give you that. And I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to get my pizza to go.” He flags down a waitress and tells her to box his pizza. “I’m not going to let you spoil my first pizza in two months,” he tells McGee.

But that crazy, hostile part of him that he starts calling Crazy McGee isn’t ready to let this go, even though Sane McGee is trying desperately to get Crazy McGree under control, regroup, and smooth things over. “Tony, have you thought this through?” Crazy McGee demands.

“Gosh, have I ever?” Tony blinks his eyes facetiously at McGee. “I’m definitely not having my pizza with you, and especially not after I’ve deprived myself for all this time. I ate a lot of kale for two months, and now I want my fucking pizza, and I want to eat it in peace.”

“Seriously, Tony. Sleeping with the Boss? Do you think that’s a good idea?” Sane McGee is frothing in the mouth, trying to shut himself up without success.

Tony’s face hardens and he turns his now-steely gaze to McGee. “I’m leaving now, and we aren’t going to talk about this again. Ever. Tell Abby the same thing.”

“What happens when you fuck things up, Tony?” Crazy McGee keeps going on. “You always do. Gibbs will be unbearable. Did you even think about the team when you guys started whatever it is this is between you?” By this time Sane McGee has given up all hope and is curled into a ball, cringing at every word that Crazy McGee keeps uttering.

Tony freezes, and gives McGee a stare that is worthy of Gibbs. “You know what? I think I’m skipping pizza altogether,” he says with a deadly calm that scares even Crazy McGee into silence. The junior agent sees that a muscle is twitching in Tony’s jaw. He throws money down on the table and leaves without saying another word.

McGee stifles a scream of frustration and buries his head in his hands. This did not go as planned. Not even close. McGee had imagined the conversation to be much more controlled, and be a lot less accusatory on his part. More understanding. More, hey Tony, just so you know, we know you started something with Gibbs and we’re just concerned about you. Hope you’re happy and that you guys are doing well. Really. And please, don’t break the team up if you guys break up, which of course we totally don’t want you to since you do seem so happy these days.

But instead what had he said? Did he actually tell Tony that he always fucks things up? What the hell is wrong with him? cringing as he asks himself. Where the hell had that crazy asshole come from? Who was he channeling? Fuck! What if Crazy McGee is the real McGee and he is in fact a really awful person?

How is he going to get Tony to forgive him now? McGee headslaps himself almost violently.

Fuck! He hopes that Abby is faring better with Bishop than he just did with Tony. He should have been the one to speak to Bishop and let Abby handle Tony. He groans loudly when they bring Tony’s pizza over in a box.

Meanwhile, Abby has taken Bishop to her favorite sushi place for lunch. While they wait for their food, Abby begins by talking to Bishop about her new boyfriend.

“So you like this guy?”

“Eh,” Bishop shrugs. “I guess so. I’m not marrying him or anything, but he’s fun and exciting. And he makes me feel good about myself. So I’m just going with it as long as we’re having fun.”

“That’s nice,” Abby says. “You deserve some fun.” Unsaid is the ‘after what Jake put your through’.

Bishop smiles. “I am having fun. And it’s no pressure, so it’s nice.”

“Seems like he’s pretty good in the sack too, what with all your booty calls lately.”

Bishop blushes. “I have no complaints,” she admits.

Abby grins. “It’s good to see you happy again, Bishop.”

The blonde grins back happily.

Abby sighs. “I had another reason to take you out to lunch, Bishop.”

Bishop looks curious. “What’s the reason?”

“You know what’s going on with Tony,” Abby says. “McGee and I know that you know that Tony and Gibbs are seeing each other.”

“What?” Bishop looks at her, shocked.

“Tony and Gibbs,” Abby repeats patiently, “we believe that they’re in a relationship.”

“Uh,” Bishop looks around. “Abby, don’t go there.”

“You know something,” Abby says, giving Bishop her puppy eyes. “We’ve seen you looking at Tony a certain way. You know what’s going on.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“You’re not that good a liar, Bishop.”

Bishop sighs and closes her eyes. “Abby, you need to speak to Tony, OK? Not me. I’m not involved.”

“But you know stuff.”

“Ask Tony, Abby,” Bishop says, setting her jaw. “Now, you are _still_ buying me lunch, goddammit.”

Abby smiles. “Fine, Bishop. You be like that,” she sounds vaguely threatening.

“Abby, if you love Tony and value your friendship with him, you will not ask me these questions,” Bishop says, completely serious now. “Talk to Tony. I’m serious. You don’t want to do it this way.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m not saying a word,” Bishop hisses. “Ask Tony. Leave me out of it.”

“Out of what?” Abby tries again. “Bishop, we know that Tony and Gibbs started a relationship during or shortly after the Stowe op.”

Bishop groans. “Fuck, Abby. Don’t do this. Please?”

Abby looks at Bishop. “You want to tell me something, don’t you?” she says carefully.

Bishop looks around carefully. She leans closer, and Abby leans closer too. “Talk to Tony,” she whispers urgently. “Now you better still be buying me sushi, Abby.”

Abby grins at her. “Of course I am.”

“Good.”

“You won’t tell Tony I tried to get information out of you?”

“Nah. I’d have done the same thing in your situation.”

The women grin at each other. “Whatever you know, it’s big isn’t it,” Abby says, her eyes shining.

“Oh, it’s huge,” Bishop agrees.

Abby rubs her hands together. “Could I figure it out?”

Bishop shakes her head. “No way in hell.”

“How’d you find out whatever it is you know?”

“I caught him at a vulnerable time. Saw some things. Put some things together due to that. He didn’t have a choice but to talk to me about it afterwards.”

“Clever, Bishop,” Abby says admiringly. “Am I close? As in my guess about Tony.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Bishop says firmly. “You want details, you confront Tony yourself.”

“How big is this?”

“MOAS big,” Bishop says, nodding seriously. “Heck, maybe even GGMOAS.”

“GGMOAS?”

“Great-grandmother of all…”

“That big??”

Bishop nods seriously. And then their sushi arrives and the women dig in. Abby keeps looking at Bishop hoping for more clues, but Bishop is firmly tight-lipped.

“This is going to kill me, Bishop,” Abby says when they walk back to the Navy Yard after lunch.

Bishop sighs. “It’s killing me too,” she says quietly. “But you can’t ask me.”

“Fuck!” Abby swears in frustration.

“I know.”

“I’m going to have to ask Tony, aren’t I?”

Bishop shrugs. “Make it clear I told you nothing.”

“You haven’t told me anything! Other than it’s big.”

Bishop nods.

“Is it going to blow my mind?”

“Oh boy,” Bishop nods. “But anyway, we’re not talking about this anymore. I don’t want to be in Tony’s sights if he thinks I said anything.”

“I understand.”

Abby hugs Bishop before she gets off the elevator.

When Bishop walks into the bullpen, she sees that Tony is angrily flipping through file folders, and banging shut drawers and file cabinets.

“Tony?” she says softly.

“What?” Tony turns his angry eyes at her.

“You OK?”

“Never better, Bishop,” he bites out. “Except I can’t find my fucking stapler!”

Bishop walks over, picks a piece of paper up and exposes Tony’s Mighty Mouse stapler. “There it is,” she says.

“Thanks,” Tony says, picking it up. However, when he tries to staple his papers together, he finds that the stapler is empty. “Fuck!” he growls, throws the stapler and the pieces of paper down, kicks his desk savagely before he stalks away to the men’s room.

Bishop stares at his back before she turns back to Tony’s desk. She looks over at McGee who is red-faced, sitting silently at his desk. A pizza box is stuffed into his trash can.

“Um, what’s going on?” she asks carefully.

“Nothing,” McGee says quietly.

“Oh-kayyyy,” Bishop says disbelievingly, as she goes to her desk and sits down.

“How was your lunch with Abby?” McGee asks, trying to sound innocent.

Bishop raises her eyebrows. “Ah,” she says knowingly. “You tried with Tony what Abby just tried with me?”

McGee shrugs.

“Guess it didn’t go so well.”

McGee glares at her.

“FYI, Abby didn’t get anything out of me. But we still managed to have a nice lunch.”

McGee sticks his tongue out at her.

Tony comes stomping back, throws himself in his chair, and loudly refills his stapler, muttering in Italian under his breath. He stacks papers together and staples them forcefully, and Bishop worries that Mighty Mouse will never be the same again. He begins typing, and McGee cringes at the punishment that his keyboard is taking. He sighs, and walks over to Tony’s desk.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” he says quietly.

Tony gives McGee the coldest stare he has ever seen, surpassing even Gibbs’ death glare. At least Gibbs’ death glare promises death. Tony’s cold stare makes him feel like he is less than nothing, not even worth the threat of death.

“I was out of line,” he continues.

Tony looks away, his jaw set, lips a straight line of anger. “Go back to work, Agent McGee,” Tony says in that quiet, scary voice that he uses when he is speaking to perps that he especially loathes (serial killers, child murderers, rapists). McGee is unable to get Tony to even look at him again, and finally goes back to his own desk in defeat.

Later, when McGee recounts his conversation with Tony to Abby, explaining his out of body experience and the Crazy McGee phenomenon, she punches his arm hard. “You told him he always fucks things up!?” she exclaims.

“I _know _,” McGee says miserably. “It got out of hand. I might have gone a little crazy.”__

“A _little_ crazy?” she rolls her eyes. “This is so not good, McGee. Bishop says it’s the GGMOAS and she can’t tell us anything if we value our friendship with Tony. She says to ask Tony."

“I don’t think he’s going to take being questioned again very well, Abby.”

“No, he’s not. Fuck!”

“What do I do now? He keeps calling me ‘Agent McGee’ and never looks at me. Or if he does, then I’d rather he didn’t. I would never have thought I would prefer Gibbs’ glare to Tony’s but I think now maybe I do.”

Abby sighs. “I’ll see if he’ll let me calm him down. Next time he comes down here I’ll try to talk to him.”

“Thanks, Abby.”

They sit in silence for a moment. “The GGMOAS?” McGee asks.

“Great-grandmother of all secrets,” Abby says.

“Fuck.”

“You said it.”

But when Abby tries to talk to Tony, to explain and apologize, he gives her the same cold stare that he gave McGee, speaks only about the case, and he withdraws the caf-pow he’d brought her. The next day he stops going down to Forensics, sending Bishop instead.

Tony gives both McGee and Abby the cold shoulder for the next few days. At one point, McGee overhears part of a conversation between Gibbs and Tony while he is in a stall in the men’s room.

“Tony,” Gibbs says, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. Not to mention Gibbs called Tony by his first name, something he rarely does. “You can’t keep going this way. You need to work things out with McGee and Abby.”

“Yeah?” Tony sounds belligerent.

“Tony,” Gibbs says softly, his tone pleading. Just his name.

McGee hears Tony sigh. He imagines some non-verbal communication going on, stares and quirked eyebrows, and twitched lips, the way that they always do.

“No,” Tony finally says.

“You let this go on much longer and I’m going to have to step in.”

“I will handle this. Stay out of it.”

“Tony,” Gibbs repeats his soft plea.

“Do _not_ get involved in this,” Tony repeats forcefully. “ _Let_ them stew. Let them think about what they said. They need to grow the fuck up.”

“Tony, you can’t go on like this.”

“Watch me,” Tony says, and he leaves the rest room, Gibbs hot on his heels, leaving McGee in the stall, not knowing how the rest of the conversation went. But since Tony’s behavior towards him does not change, whatever Gibbs said must have fallen on deaf ears.

In the field however, Tony is supremely professional. He still works seamlessly with McGee, never putting his personal feelings in the way of safety or the work, but he does not clown around with him, neither does he speak to the junior agent unless absolutely necessary. And he insists on addressing him as Agent McGee. He ignores all of McGee and Abby’s peace overtures.

As the days pass and tension mounts between Tony and McGee, Gibbs begins to get grumpier and growlier, barking at everyone, Vance included. McGee finds himself hiding out in Abby’s lab as much as possible as he keeps feeling those blue eyes trained angrily on him. During one of the times that he and Gibbs drive out together to interview a witness, he feels the barely restrained anger in Gibbs’ entire demeanor. This is the kind of vibe he gets from Gibbs when the older man wants to beat someone into a bloody pulp in Interrogation. Scarily, that feeling is now directed at him, and Gibbs isn’t even bothering to hide it anymore. He wonders why Gibbs hasn’t just confronted him about what is going on between Tony and himself. Suddenly it strikes him. The only reason that Gibbs hasn’t just beat the shit out of him is because Tony told him to stay out of this. The realization that Gibbs respects Tony enough to actually stay out of it as he had been asked to completely floors McGee. Tony is the reason that Gibbs hasn’t stepped in or done bodily harm to him.

McGee’s heart begins pounding and he keeps sneaking small glances at Gibbs while the older man defies all traffic laws, driving as if vehicular homicide is his goal and McGee the one he would like to run over with his car.

“What?” Gibbs’ growls at him, when he catches McGee giving him another look.

“N-nothing, B-boss,” McGee stammers.

Gibbs stomps on the accelerator, speeding up even more, while McGee hangs on to the oh-shit handle, trying not to squeak in fear.

Finally, after another week goes by and Tony’s attitude remains glacial, Gibbs speaks to McGee while Tony is out getting coffee.

“My house. Tonight. 1900 hours. Tell Abby,” Gibbs tells him, his eyes bleak, full-on death glare. He turns to Bishop, sitting at her desk. “You come too.”

Bishop nods silently. McGee swallows audibly. “Boss, I-“

“ _Don’t_ bring pizza,” Gibbs interrupts, his eyes glinting angrily. “You’ve put him off pizza.”

“I just wanted to say…”

“Tonight. 1900 hours,” Gibbs repeats curtly, cutting him off before he walks out of the bullpen.

McGee looks at Bishop, who shakes her head, looking just as shell-shocked as he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may not seem like it in this fic but I am actually fond of Tim, especially in the last couple of years. He's really gotten so much better in the last couple of years. But I felt that his brand of complexes, (both superiority and inferiority) lent itself to this story.
> 
> On a personal note, it was my birthday today (just ended at midnight ET). I had a really good day. I just wanted to tell you all thank you for all the fun I've had on this site, reading fics as well as posting my own stories. So again, thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens at Gibbs' house that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter after this! :)

When Tony returns from the coffee run, he keeps his sunglasses on and works at his desk quietly, keeping to himself all afternoon. McGee wonders if the sunglasses is Tony’s way of escalating the level at which he was ignoring the junior agent. He sighs, wondering what this evening’s meeting at Gibbs’ house will bring.

At 1900, McGee, Abby and Bishop walk into Gibbs’ house after knocking once on his door. McGee and Abby each have a six-pack of beer. Bishop has a bottle of bourbon. Abby had punched McGee’s arm really hard when he told her how Gibbs had said not to bring pizza, as he had put Tony off pizza.

Gibbs’ front door, is as always, unlocked. To their surprise, they see Tony lying on the couch, a washcloth over his eyes. He’s dressed in a gray USMC t-shirt, khaki shorts, and is barefoot.

“Jet, I don’t know where you ordered dinner from but they just walked in. You have got to lock that fucking door sometimes,” Tony complains in barely a whisper, without moving a muscle.

Gibbs walks out of the kitchen and nods, his only greeting to McGee, Abby and Bishop.

“Tony?” McGee says carefully.

Tony cautiously lifts the washcloth and looks at them, his eyes bloodshot. He turns his head and pins Gibbs with an accusing stare. Then he glares at the newcomers before putting the washcloth back on his eyes, and settling back down, barely stifling a moan of pain.

“Bossman,” Abby goes to give Gibbs a hug. He accepts although he looks a little sad.

“We’re waiting for Ducky and Palmer,” Gibbs says. Then to McGee and Abby’s surprise, he walks over to Tony, nudges his shoulder gently and places a glass of water and what looks to be some pills in Tony’s hands. Without removing the washcloth, Tony downs the pills with a quick swallow from the glass, and blindly holds the glass out to give it back to Gibbs. The team lead’s fingers linger over Tony’s as he takes the glass, and he goes back into the kitchen.

Unsure of what to do, McGee, Bishop and Abby follow him into the kitchen. McGee doesn’t see the intense fury that Gibbs has been containing for the past few days but instead, there is a heaviness, a deep sadness to him tonight. Dread pools in the pit of his stomach. This is going to be really bad. He is convinced of it now.

“Keep your voice down,” Gibbs tells them quietly. He inclines his head to the living room. “Migraine.”

Abby and Bishop nod.

“Since when does Tony get migraines?” McGee whispers, a shadow of Crazy McGee coming back.

“Since always,” Gibbs says in a tone that brooks no arguments.

McGee cranes his neck to look at Tony lying as still as he can on the couch. “Fuck,” he says softly, thinking perhaps the sunglasses kept on all that afternoon (without Gibbs objecting to it) was a sign that he was experiencing sensitivity to light, as one of the symptoms of a migraine. He stands there looking at Tony, wondering what else he does not know about the man he has worked with every day for twelve years. How many times has Tony kept his sunglasses on at work through the years that McGee had put down as being due to a hangover or excessive partying but had really been Tony hiding a migraine? He turns to look at Gibbs. The blue-eyed man is dressed similarly to Tony, khaki shorts, bare feet, but he wears a t-shirt that has Tony’s frat house Greek letters on it.

Shit, did Tony live with Gibbs already? McGee wonders. Tony is obviously wearing one of Gibbs’ t-shirts, and Gibbs is wearing one of Tony’s. That is a sure sign of a domestic arrangement. He sighs, wondering just how deep he’s put his foot in with his conversation with Tony the previous week. He has to work hard to stop his hands from trembling with nerves.

Ducky and Palmer arrive shortly, and they give Ducky a minute to examine Tony. Finally they all assemble in Gibbs’ living room. Tony is sitting up now, leaning his head on the back of the couch, washcloth still over his eyes. Ducky sits next to Tony, holding one of his hands. Gibbs stands in front of the fireplace. McGee, Abby, Bishop and Palmer find seats.

Gibbs looks at everyone seriously before he speaks. “I don’t know what happened between you,” he starts. “McGee, Abby, I don’t know what you said to Tony or what he said to you. What I do know is we can’t continue the way we’ve been going this past week. It hasn’t happened yet, but someone is bound to get hurt or killed in the field if we don’t trust each other.”

Tony’s snort of disgust at Gibbs’ use of the word ‘trust’ shocks McGee and makes him jump.

“I’m not asking what you all talked about,” Gibbs continues, ignoring Tony. “I don’t want to know what was said. All I know is it is affecting how we do our jobs and this can’t continue.”

Tony begins growling deep in his throat.

“I told Tony I would stay out of it, but I can’t do it any longer. When I feel that team safety is jeopardized, I have to step in.”

Tony’s growls get louder.

“You know I’m right, Tony,” Gibbs tells him gently. This whole time, Gibbs has been speaking very quietly, to not aggravate Tony’s migraine.

“I’m sorry, Bossman,” Abby says softly, eyes shining with tears. “We didn’t mean to hurt Tony’s feelings. Tony, I’m really, really sorry.”

Tony stamps his foot, making everyone jump.

“It’s my fault, Boss,” McGee confesses. “I wanted to know what Bishop knows cause she knows something about Tony, but she wouldn’t tell me what it is. I roped Abby into helping me find out.”

Gibbs breathes out, a loud sigh. He nods solemnly. “It seems it’s time Tony and I told you some things,” he says slowly.

“No,” Tony’s hoarse whisper is firm. “It’s none of their business.”

“We can’t be a team like this. We don’t have a choice.”

“No!” Tony stamps his foot angrily again, and Ducky begins patting his hand and clucking soothingly. Gibbs walks to the sofa and kneels down in front of Tony, taking his other hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, until he sees Tony’s breaths slow down and Tony stop vibrating with so much anger.

Gibbs looks at Ducky who nods reassuringly. Silver head nods in reply. He sighs, presses a soft kiss to Tony’s palm before he stands and walks back to the fireplace.

“Some of you already know, but most of you don’t. The truth is, Tony and I are together. We have had a relationship pretty much since we met in Baltimore.”

Gibbs ignores Tony’s stamped foot and angry snarls, unable to keep his displeasure known but unable to speak his mind due to the pounding in his head.

Abby gasps at this. “And by relationship you mean…?”

“Yep,” Gibbs nods. “I do.”

“Since Baltimore?” McGee repeats, shocked. McGee’s heart plummets to his feet. He had accused Tony of not thinking about the team when he started the relationship with Gibbs, when in actuality the relationship had begun years before McGee had even been part of the team. And he had been completely unaware that they had been together all these years! It was no wonder Tony refused to speak to him after that awful, awful conversation with Crazy McGee.

“But how did we not know this?” Abby’s eyes are wide.

“We didn’t ever think it was anybody’s business but our own,” Gibbs says. “But this situation we find ourselves in makes going on quietly the way we would have preferred it, impossible.”

“What about all of Tony’s women? And your own relationships?” McGee asks.

Tony kicks the coffee table, making everyone jump.

“We’ve had a rocky relationship. Off and on, you could say,” Gibbs’ lips quirk up in a wry grin. “But we’ve figured things out. Ducky found out about us while Tony was in the hospital after the Stowe op. Bishop figured it out for herself,” Gibbs gifts Bishop with a proud grin. “But neither Tony nor I wanted questions or even to talk about this to any of you.”

“But why?” Abby asks, her eyes filling with tears. “This is a good thing, Bossman. Isn’t it?”

“Because we’re very private people, and this is a very private thing,” Gibbs tells her. “This is a good thing, but it was our private thing. We’ve had some very hard times as well as some very good times, and we never wanted anything personal between us to ever affect the team. Hopefully, it hasn’t. Except for now.”

McGee puts his head in his hands and shakes it quietly. This is all his fault. Tony is snarling softly under his breath, clearly unhappy at how the evening is going.

“If we can’t resolve this,” Gibbs continues softly, “then I will be forced to break the team up. For everyone’s safety.”

Tony throws the washcloth off and glares at Gibbs. “What the fuck does that mean?” he manages to convey his fury even though he is whispering. McGee stares at him. Tony must have been in terrible pain to not have spoken while Gibbs was revealing their secret, and for him to speak now…

“That means I will speak to Leon. He’s offered you your own team so many times in the past years. I would ask him to again offer you your own team when another position opens. And this time you will take it, honey.”

Tony’s mouth falls open. “What?”

“You’ve been refusing promotions for years. It’s about time you spread your wings, don’t you think?” Gibbs’ voice is so gentle, McGee thinks it doesn’t even sound like Gibbs.

“But who’ll watch your six?” to McGee’s surprise, he sees Tony’s eyes fill with tears. It is the first time he has ever seen Tony cry. It is as if the thought that someone else would be responsible for Gibbs’ safety hurts him more than anything ever has.

“You’ve trained McGee and Bishop well,” Gibbs continues in that same gentle voice, nodding at them both. “They’ll watch my six.”

“Fuck this!” Tony’s face crumples as he stands. He stumbles over to the stairs, and hauls himself upstairs. They hear a bedroom door slam shut.

Gibbs sighs. He looks at Ducky who nods. “I shall go and make sure Anthony is all right, Jethro,” he says, his tone soothing.

After Ducky has disappeared up the stairs, Gibbs looks at his team. “I’m sure you have questions,” he sounds tired.

Abby, McGee and Palmer exchange looks. Bishop quietly looks down at her hands.

“Does Tony live with you?” Abby asks quietly.

Gibbs smiles. “And I live with him,” he says softly. “Both here and at his apartment.”

“You’ve really been together, since before I joined the team?” McGee can’t help asking again.

Gibbs nods. “Fell for him when I first saw him in Baltimore,” he grins fondly at the memory. “Fucking cocky son of a bitch.”

“Maybe you should tell them your zinger,” Bishop suggests.

“What’s the zinger?” Abby asks.

“Why don’t you tell them,” Gibbs tells Bishop, “since you were the only one who managed to figure it out.”

Palmer, McGee and Abby all look at Bishop. She makes a face, and points to the ring finger of her left hand (hers is now bare, of course). Then she inclines her head at Gibbs.

“You guys are _married?_ ” Abby whispers, looking at Gibbs.

Gibbs nods.

“GGMOAS,” Bishop says quietly.

“For how long?” McGee finds himself asking.

“It’ll be three years in November.”

“You’ve been married over two years?” McGee says stupidly.

“And together since the beginning,” Abby says her tone now accepting. “You guys always had chemistry,” she smiles shakily at Gibbs.

Gibbs smiles back, nodding in agreement.

“But what about Rule 12?” McGee asks.

“It never really applied to Tony and me,” Gibbs shrugs. “I focused mostly on Rule Five with him. Believe me, he and I have had our own discussions on that rule.” He grins sadly and hands Abby money. “Dinner should be arriving soon. I ordered Chinese for everyone. I better go up there. I’ll send Ducky down in a minute. He’s good with Tony but I think between us we’ve pushed just about every one of Tony’s buttons these past couple of weeks. So if you don’t mind, I don’t think I should let Tony get any angrier. If I know him, and I’m pretty sure I do, he’s about ready to kill someone up there, or he’s throwing up. Or possibly both.”

Gibbs disappears up the stairs, leaving the four to look at each other awkwardly.

“Jimmy, you don’t look very surprised,” McGee glares at Palmer whose expression is more knowing than anything else.

Palmer sighs. “When Agent Gibbs, uh, retired to Mexico, Tony and I started becoming friends. He never said anything, but I always got the feeling that he missed Gibbs more than all of you put together. That his hurt was somehow greater than yours,” he says quietly. “More than someone would miss their boss. And when Gibbs came back, and still didn’t remember him completely, he retreated from us all. But you were all so busy being happy that Gibbs came back, you didn’t see how sad he got every time Gibbs called him by the wrong name, or missed some inside reference. It made me think that there was more between the two of them than any of us ever suspected. So I guess I’m not terribly surprised at this because I kind of figured there was something going on.”

“I didn’t have a clue,” McGee says disbelievingly. “Under my nose the whole time, and I didn’t have a clue.”

“I didn’t either,” Abby says sadly, “and I’ve known them even longer than you have.”

“I guess they really wanted to keep this private,” Bishop says quietly.

Ducky comes down just as the doorbell rings. Abby pays the delivery guy and brings bags of food in. “Looks like Gibbs ordered enough to feed an army,” she says. “Ducky, how’s Tony?”

“Not well,” Ducky sighs. “He was throwing up when I got up there, which means he threw up the pills Jethro gave him. Jethro is attempting to give him his migraine injection now – you know how he is with needles. Unfortunately, Anthony will not be joining us for dinner.”

“Did you know they were together, Ducky?” McGee asks.

“Not until I saw them together at the hospital when Anthony was recovering after the Stowe case,” Ducky says quietly. “I did not have any idea prior to that. I knew they were fond of each other, of course, and were friendly after work, but I never thought they were actually together. But now that I do know, Jethro and Anthony are actually most suited to each other, and are amazingly good for each other.”

“Fuck,” McGee says quietly. “I hope Tony lets me explain things to him.”

“You might need to give him a little time,” Ducky sighs. “He is beside himself, now that Jethro has brought up him leaving the team.”

“Aw, fuck,” McGee scrubs his face with his hands. “This is all my fault.”

“Jethro said to eat,” Ducky says, patting McGee’s shoulder. He and Abby look through the cupboards to pull out plates and silverware.

Halfway through the meal, Gibbs comes down. He grabs a plate and begins dishing himself some food.

“How is Anthony?” Ducky asks him.

“Passed out, finally,” Gibbs says. “I finally had to sit on him and immobilize him to get that syringe in. But the meds worked fast, as usual.”

“Make him stay home tomorrow,” Ducky says. “I shall authorize a sick day for him and you should stay with him, Jethro.”

“Thanks, Duck,” Gibbs nods. “I might talk to Vance to get us both some days off. Give him a chance to cool off. I haven’t taken him anywhere in a while, so maybe it’ll be good for us to get away.”

Ducky nods. “That sounds like a good idea, Jethro.”

Gibbs looks at McGee and Bishop. “You can either take the rest of the week off, or work cold cases, or back up some of the other teams while we’re gone.”

McGee and Bishop nod silently.

“Chin up,” Gibbs tells them. “It’s never as bad as you think it is.”

“I don’t want Tony to leave the team,” McGee finally says.

“It might be the best thing for everyone,” Gibbs says, even though his eyes are sad.

“No, Boss,” McGee insists. “My mess, I’ll clean it up. Rule 45.”

Gibbs sighs. “I won’t speak to Leon about Tony getting his own team until you’ve had a chance to speak to him.”

“Thanks, Boss.”

“What’s it like being married to Tony?” Abby asks him.

Gibbs smiles, a soft smile that they have never seen on his face before. “He’s a force of nature,” he says quietly. “It’s like asking me what it’s like to be swept up by a tornado.”

“Bet the sex is hot,” she says, grinning.

Gibbs grins back, and to McGee’s surprise he blushes and clears his throat. “No comment,” he says.

“The therapy stuff,” McGee says. “How much of that was true?”

“None of it. Not anymore,” Gibbs says quietly.

“So you guys are happily married?”

Gibbs shrugs. “Yeah. We are.”

“Even though nobody knows.”

“Lot less stressful that way. The only stress so far is you all finding out.”

McGee swallows and covers his face with his hands again. The stress has been caused by him, and he knows it. “Tony really didn’t tell you what I said to him?” McGee asks hesitantly.

Gibbs shakes his head. “Nope. He doesn’t involve me with team things that he thinks he should handle himself. He only told me you said some things to him that he didn’t like.”

“Fuck,” McGee swears again.

After they eat, Abby and Bishop help to clean up and put leftovers away while McGee nurses a beer, watching as Ducky, Gibbs and Palmer chat companionably. Or as companionably as Gibbs would ever be, doing something as normal as chatting. McGee’s thoughts are all jumbled. Tony and Gibbs had been involved _in that way_ since before he knew them. And they had still formed a team, first with Kate, and then they added him. Then Ziva. And now Bishop. But if he thinks back, Tony is the one who had really trained him, trained Kate, trained Ziva. He’s helped Tony train Bishop but it has mostly been Tony deciding what Bishop was ready for or what else she needed to focus on and McGee carrying out Tony’s directions or following his lead.

Tony has been responsible for the training of all of Gibbs’ agents. And if he was honest with himself, if Tony hadn’t been there, he, McGee, would not have made it as a field agent. He would have just remained the computer guy with no field-worthy skills. But Tony had teased him mercilessly until he was able to fight back, helped him grow a spine, helped him become competent in the field.

He sees now how Tony must have discussed his growth with Gibbs, away from work. Made his recommendations. And Gibbs had trusted him to do it all, and pretty much left him to it, going so far as to keep acetone at his desk to unglue McGee every time Tony super glued him to objects in the bullpen. They had been together, having sex, sharing their lives outside of work, or fighting and having other partners instead of each other, the whole time. And their admittedly rocky relationship hadn’t affected the team. He had never felt Gibbs favor Tony in anything. In fact, perhaps even the opposite. Gibbs has always expected much more out of Tony, was much less inclined to praise Tony or reward him, but in fact expected Tony to be his absolute best at all times.

Finally when they all leave Gibbs’ (and Tony’s) house, Abby, McGee and Bishop decide to go out for drinks so they can talk some more. They sit at a table, nursing drinks and looking at each other, wide eyed.

“See why I couldn’t have been the one to tell you about them?” Bishop says quietly. “Tony would have killed me. Besides, it wasn’t my story to tell.”

“Tony still didn’t want us to know,” McGee whines.

“Can you blame him?” Abby says quietly. “Look what we put him through these past couple of weeks. I can’t believe we forced them into this.”

“I can’t believe Gibbs would kick Tony off the team because of something I did,” McGee groans.

“It would really be a good career move for Tony,” Abby says. “He’s turned down so many promotions now, it’s not even funny.”

“But so romantic,” Bishop’s eyes suddenly fill with tears. “That he would want to stay with Gibbs all these years to watch his six.”

“You’re right, that is so romantic,” Abby smiles. “That’s Tony though. Think about all the old movies that he loves, the romance of the classics. He’s a closet romantic.” Abby and Bishop sigh.

“This whole time, he’s been in love with Gibbs,” Bishop shakes her head. “I’m so glad you guys know now because I’ve been dying to talk to someone about this.”

“You’ve known for a while now,” Abby tells her.

“But I had no one to talk to about it. I didn’t know Ducky knew or I would have talked to him.”

“You didn’t talk to Tony?” Abby asks her.

Bishop shakes her head. “Once we had our conversation about this all, Tony clammed right back up and went back to behaving exactly the way he always behaves. We never spoke about it again.”

“Not once?” Abby is surprised.

“Not even once.”

“Wow, Gibbs wasn’t kidding when he said it was a very private thing,” Abby breathes.

“It was going on this whole time. I didn’t suspect anything,” McGee laments, swallowing his drink and signaling the waitress for more.

“It all makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? All their failed relationships all these years. Because they were hung up on each other,” Abby muses.

“Can you believe they’re married?” McGee suddenly snaps. “Married! Tony is married! Our Tony. How can our Tony possibly be fucking married? And happily married? And to Gibbs??”

Bishop looks at him disapprovingly. “Is this the attitude you brought when you had your talk with Tony?” she shakes her head. “It’s no wonder he got so angry.”

McGee sighs. “Oh no,” he tells her dejectedly. “I was way worse when we went out to lunch. Waaaay worse. It’s like my mouth went on even though my brain was screaming for me to shut up. And my brain had some much nicer words to say, but my mouth went a whole different way.”

“What did you say to him?”

McGee looks helplessly at Abby. “I can’t say it again, Abby,” he groans.

Abby looks at Bishop. “Something along the lines of Tony not considering the team when he started the relationship with Gibbs. That’s of course under our original assumption that they started something either during or after the Stowe op. And if I recall correctly, McGee asked Tony what would happen to the team _when_ Tony fucks things up with Gibbs because Tony always fucks up his relationships?”

“No!” Bishop looks at McGee, shocked. “No! McGee!”

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” McGee whines.

“Yes you are,” Abby says comfortingly, “but we’ll find a way to fix this.”

“Gibbs will never forgive me if he has to throw his husband off the team because of me,” McGee moans. “Oh my god. Gibbs is Tony’s husband…”

Abby and Bishop pat McGee’s shoulders soothingly.

“We can fix this, McGee,” Abby says confidently. “This is Tony. He’s the most forgiving person I know.”

“This is true,” Bishop agrees. “From what I’ve heard, you guys were pretty evil to him when Gibbs went away to Mexico. And he still loves you now.”

“And he was going through his own heartbreak at the time, and we didn’t even know about it,” Abby says sadly. “Tony never says anything to anyone.”

“I get the feeling he has a very open relationship with Gibbs,” Bishop says. “I think Tony tells him just about everything.”

“Except for work stuff that he thinks he should handle himself,” Abby adds.

“Fuck! I need to fix this,” McGee growls. “I have to fix this. Tony can’t leave us because of me.”

“You will,” Abby says. “You don’t have a choice. But we’ll have time. We can practice what you should say. Cue cards. Speech memorization. So you don’t say things off the cuff and make things any worse. We’ll make sure Crazy McGee doesn’t make an appearance.”

“Yeah, Gibbs did say he was going to make Tony take some time off. Go away together,” Bishop nods. “That will give you guys time.”

“Wasn’t that so sweet?” Abby croons. “I bet the Bossman is totally sweet to Tony. I bet he’s not the bastard we know and love when it’s just them together.”

“I don’t know. Tony is kind of a glutton for punishment – look at what he still keeps doing to earn himself those headslaps,” Bishop says thoughtfully.

“No,” Abby says firmly. “Tony is a romantic. If he married Gibbs after all these years, it’s because they figured their shit out. Tony would not marry Gibbs second B for bastard. I’m sure of it. Gibbs is a big ol’ softie inside, anyway. I bet he lets that softie out when it’s just the two of them.”

“Ducky did say that they were good for each other,” Bishop starts to agree.

“Well, I for one am glad that we know the truth now,” Abby declares. “I want to see how cute they are together. Did you see the Bossman blush when I asked how hot the sex was?”

Bishop giggles. “That was cute. And you know Tony. I bet the sex is pretty hot.”

“Bishop!” McGee exclaims. “Not you, too!”

“Not me too what?”

“Nothing,” McGee says, tossing back his scotch and gesturing to the waitress for another round. “Absolutely nothing. Nobody should ever talk to me ever again because all I do is put my foot into my mouth and make secretly married Tonys really mad at me, so much so it threatens the integrity of the team.”

“How many drinks has he had?” Bishop asks Abby.

Abby shrugs. “Not enough because he’s still whining. And still coherent.”

“I can’t believe that Jimmy’s suspected something all these years!” McGee tosses back the scotch almost before the waitress puts it on the table. He gestures at her to keep them coming.

“I’m not too surprised,” Bishop says.

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t know how to say this nicely.”

“I’m not particularly nice,” McGee says miserably. “So just hit me with it.”

Bishop takes a deep breath. “You guys are too close to Tony. And to Gibbs. You’ve kind of put Tony, especially, in a particular box. So you can’t see past some of the barriers that he puts up. That he’s always put up, so you guys just kind of stop there, because of your long history together.”

“How does that make it so Jimmy is the only one who suspected anything?”

“He’s kind of like me. We’re a little bit on the outside. So we see the cracks in Tony’s stories because we’re, not to say looking for it, but we’re not automatically helping him cover it up with the assumptions that we’ve made about him. Like when Jimmy said, that he could see Tony retreat further into himself when Gibbs hurt him when he came back from Mexico. I can totally see how you two would have missed that because of your connection to Gibbs. That you would have been so happy to have Gibbs back that you’d forgive him anything, and from what I heard, you pretty much tossed poor Tony aside without too much thought about his welfare. Which I’m sure he didn’t mind given that he would have also been happy to get Gibbs back. But unlike you guys, he didn’t get _his_ Gibbs back. He got a version of Gibbs that probably didn’t remember what they meant to each other. Can you imagine how much that would have hurt him?”

Abby sits, wide eyed, finally thinking about this. “Shit,” she says softly. “Poor Tony. I wonder why he didn’t leave, if Gibbs didn’t remember him.”

“Because the fucking idiot was hopelessly in love with Gibbs, even if Gibbs didn’t remember him,” McGee exclaims, his words starting to slur. “And we were all so horribly fucking blind, we didn’t see it. Didn’t see how much he was hurting. Didn’t see how everything Gibbs did was another stab to his poor little broken heart. It’s no wonder he never tells us anything! We’re terrible, terrible friends!” He buries his head in his arms. “I can’t believe what terrible people we are! What a terrible person I am!”

“You’re not terrible,” Bishop says gently. “Tony hides everything. It’s who he is.”

“It’s like he’s always undercover,” McGee wails. “How are we supposed to know what’s true with him?”

“Wow,” Bishop says to Abby, looking at McGee. “He’s taking this really hard.”

Abby sighs. “We have known Tony a long time, Bishop,” she says quietly. “And I guess now we both have to re-think what it is we think we know about Tony.”

“I obviously don’t know _anything_ about Tony,” McGee mutters. “Not one single fucking thing. I didn’t know he gets migraines. All these years. I work with the man every fucking day and I didn’t know he gets migraines? That’s not like a tiny headache or a hangover. That’s like serious pain.”

“Hey, at least now we all know he gets migraines, and can look out for it,” Bishop says reasonably.

“Until Tony has to leave the team. Then who’ll look out for his migraines? Gibbs won’t be there and neither will we!” McGee wails.

“But you said you were going to fix that, right?” Bishop says soothingly. “I’m with Abby. You can fix this. I know you can.”

“And, we now know that he and Gibbs are married, and that he’s been in love with Gibbs forever?” Abby says, in an attempt to cheer McGee up. “That’s another real thing that we know about Tony.”

“Well, anyone with eyes knows that Tony loves Gibbs!” McGee goes on. “He’s so fucking loyal, it’s got to be love. I just never thought it was _love_ love! Or that Gibbs felt the same way about him!”

When McGee is reduced to hiccupping and mumbling about what a terrible person he is, Abby and Bishop tell the waitress to stop bringing him refills. They force him to drink a large glass of water and Abby drives him home soon afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely birthday wishes! I had an awesome day and am having a really good weekend as well. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Tony and McGee have a conversation. Hopefully without Crazy McGee.

The following Monday morning, McGee nervously drives to work. He had spent the remainder of the past week working on cold cases, and speaking with Ducky, Palmer, Abby and Bishop. He has been going over as many memories that he can, of as many interactions that he has had with Tony, and to try to see things from Tony’s point of view. Also to try to see which of those interactions had been with the ‘real’ Tony. Of course, in order to decide that, he had to go through everything he thought he knew about Tony to try and figure out which one the ‘real’ Tony was. Like the logical person that he is, he started by reviewing Tony from the start of their interactions to the present day, nothing like chronological order to put things in perspective, find out patterns and try to glean the inner Tony. The one Tony hides from everyone. Except for Gibbs, as they found out last week.

He’s decided that the first couple of years that he was on the team, there would have been no way for him to have seen anything other than what Tony projected. He had been too timid, too insecure, too scared of Gibbs, too dependent on Tony to survive in the field, certainly too intimidated by the aura of confidence and arrogance that Tony had always worn like a cloak. There was also that relationship that Tony and Kate had – how they had seemed like such a dynamic duo, always knowing stuff, always one-upping each other, and using their little probie like a pawn. But even though they’d fought and bickered with each other, sometimes going too far and being too hurtful to each other, they’d automatically banded together should either of them get threatened. And they had extended that bubble of safety to McGee himself, he realizes now. It was fine for them to torture McGee, but they had not allowed anyone else to do it.

Tony had been bigger than life then, solid, dependable, and ridiculously creative in unending ways to torture him. And now that he thinks about it, he had depended on Tony to be better than him at everything out in the field, because he needed Tony to be invincible, to be the one to save his sorry ass when he got in trouble. And Tony had done exactly that, all the while building his confidence up by tearing him down and practically rebuilding him.

And then Kate had died. And everything changed. Tony became the class clown when Ziva joined the team. As if he wanted Ziva to underestimate him. And McGee had somehow conveniently forgotten the Tony who had been his rock for the past couple of years. The Tony that had gone with him to say goodbye to Kate, poor dead Kate on a slab in Autopsy. But he had been there for him. He had stood there, made him feel the terrible loss, and that feeling it was all right and didn’t make him any less of a man, or less of an agent. That mourning those that fell was not just necessary, but an important part of their cycle. That one day, if either of them were next on the slab, that the other would be there to mourn the passing and to honor their time together. Unlike McGee, Tony had had a solid background in law enforcement. Kate had not been his first experience in this kind of loss, although he knew that Tony had been just as affected by this loss as his first ever loss. Tony had also taught him that every partner was to be valued and honored. And he had needed those lessons. Needed Tony to be there for him.

But then when Ziva came along, this Tony hid himself again, ever the chameleon, became exactly what Ziva had thought him to be. The worse thing about this was that McGee had fallen for it. He had bought the new Tony without question. The invincible, kind, wise and impossibly demanding Tony had somehow easily been completely replaced by the prankster, the joker, the ne’er-do-well Tony. So much so that during Gibbs’ retirement to Mexico, he and Ziva didn’t even notice that Tony had not only kept them together, but had kept their solve rate the same, and had probably worked himself crazy to pick up the slack. When Gibbs had been shot by The Calling and Tony had been somewhere in the world hunting Daniel Budd down, McGee had finally seen the sheer amount of work that Tony actually did as Gibbs’ Senior Field Agent. Because this time Tony hadn’t been around to shield him. So he knew that while Gibbs had been in Mexico, Tony had only entrusted him with part of the SFA work. Although a big part of him wanted to blame Tony for doing this, for shielding him and protecting him instead of throwing him into the deep end – after all he was a grown man with multiple degrees from very respectable institutions – an even bigger part of him realizes that back then he hadn’t been ready to pick up the slack. He hadn’t been ready to be a Senior Field Agent. And more importantly, he hadn’t been ready to be Tony’s Senior Field Agent, to take Tony’s word for anything. He would have looked at the work and thought that Tony was passing off his own work, instead of actually making McGee do the SFA work. While Tony had been busy hunting Daniel Budd, he also realized just how much of Gibbs’ administrative work Tony did, in order to keep the team running. It was no wonder Tony came in in the middle of the night to finish the work. The sheer volume of it was unbelievable. And he still made it look easy and effortless. So much so that McGee didn’t even see just how hard Tony worked or how much Tony took on himself rather than bother to fight with anyone about it.

This realization had been difficult for McGee. He had always thought of himself as a professional. Especially with things not directly related to field work. But that Tony had read him well enough to know that giving him actual Senior Field Agent work at that time would not have gone down well and caused more trouble that he had been willing to put up with. So much trouble that it was worth it for Tony to work himself to death doing two jobs rather than fight with McGee about something that he actually should be doing without question. It shamed him now, to think of his attitude back then. And to realize that it wasn’t that Tony didn’t think he could handle the work. It was that Tony didn’t think he could handle being given the work by Tony. And sadly, McGee had to be honest here, Tony would have been right. He would have resented the older man and possibly even rebelled and not actually done the work. He would have definitely gotten Ziva to back him up and make life that much more difficult for the older man, something Tony did not need in an already difficult time.

He also looked back to think of how he had somehow joined up with Ziva to torment and taunt Tony for years. He had thought he was just getting back at Tony for all the merciless teasing he had been put through, but in hindsight, he had been cruel to Tony a lot of the times. Tony’s pranks had never been malicious. But some of the things he and Ziva had done or said to Tony over the years, it had an ugly and malicious undertone, which Tony as perceptive and good as he is at reading people, could not have possibly missed. So he must have ignored their treatment of him on purpose. In fact, McGee thinks back, Tony had probably doubled his efforts at acting the fool in order to keep him and Ziva in a position where he could predict what they would do. Better the enemy you knew than one you didn’t. McGee shakes his head at his own behavior. Gibbs did not suffer fools, so why would he have thought so little of Tony if Gibbs kept him on as his Senior Field Agent? Why had he been so taken with Ziva’s view of Tony? Bubbles of the badass yet thoughtful Tony had come up through the years – like when McGee had accidentally shot the off-duty policeman. And the hubris on his part, to think so little of Tony due to his apparent behavior, not ever thinking back to the support and strength that Tony had provided for him before Ziva’s arrival on scene. Seriously, Tony must love Gibbs a whole lot to have put up with such crap from him and from Ziva all those years.

He wonders also, how Ziva had affected Tony and Gibbs’ relationship, both before Gibbs lost his memory and after. Ziva had been half in love and half disgusted with Tony the entire time. And Tony also seemed to blow hot and cold. But given what he now knows about Tony and just how much Tony hides himself from the world, how much of that had been Tony fooling Ziva? Had he blown hot and cold with Ziva in order to keep her off balance? Although his fierce loyalty had been demonstrated when he went off searching for her, multiple times, regardless of where in the world she was. Why hadn’t he realized that about Tony? His loyalty to his teammates, regardless of their treatment of him?

Seemed like Tony keeps getting the short end of the stick in the team department, he thinks. He’s definitely been quite the ungrateful probie. Ziva hadn’t been much better. Then there is the machinations of the higher ups that somehow always ended up with Tony being left hanging. Take the whole Jeanne Benoit / Le Grenouille incident. Tony had loved Jeanne. This much everybody knows. But then that had been during the time that Gibbs had forgotten him, so maybe he had let Jeanne fill that Gibbs-shaped hole in his heart? Had Director Shepard known this about him, and used his loneliness to her advantage? And to think that Tony had been doing the job of Team Lead, the bulk of the Senior Field Agent work, and complete his undercover assignment with no backup? How had he done that and remained sane?

And so McGee went, going through every interaction, every conversation, every memory that he has of Tony, trying to pick out the ‘real’ Tony, and understand his reasons for putting up the fronts that he had put up.

Fuck, McGee sighs as he parks his car. Despite the hours of discussion with both Abby and Bishop, as well as help from Ducky, he still isn’t sure what he would say to Tony to make this better, but he knows it had better be good.

McGee walks into the bullpen, the first person there. He looks to make sure that Tony’s backpack isn’t already there, then sits down and works on breathing exercises. He has to keep calm, keep his head, and be level headed. He needs to ask Tony to go get coffee with him, so he can talk with him away from the bullpen. And he needs to be as non-threatening and as understanding as he possibly can. Crazy McGee had been eradicated, he hopes. He and Abby had role-played over the weekend where he made Crazy McGee say all the awful hurtful things that he could possibly say in the hopes of getting it out of the way and also as a way for him to learn how to stop that asshole if he does start showing up. His arms are completely bruised from all the punches Abby had dealt out with all the terrible things Crazy McGee kept saying. Hopefully he can channel the memory of the punches to keep that side of him down. He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants legs, and stares blindly at his computer screen.

Bishop is the next to arrive. She raises her eyebrows inquiringly at McGee and he shakes his head. Nope. No Tony or Gibbs yet. She nods and sits down, booting up her computer.

Finally, at a couple of minutes to 0800, Gibbs and Tony sweep into the bullpen. Each man has a to-go cup in their hand. Gibbs gives his customary grunt of greeting. Tony casually tosses his backpack down under his desk, and his badge and weapon go into the top drawer as he slides into his chair.

“Morning Probies,” Tony greets them. He flashes Bishop a smile, and gives McGee a small smile as well.

Tony looks tanned and well-rested, McGee thinks. Gibbs had taken him somewhere where both he and Tony had been outdoors, looks like. Gibbs has some color to him as well. McGee knows that he is openly staring at Tony but he can’t help himself. He watches as Tony turns to him, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, McGoo?” Tony asks, sounding so completely normal and so himself that McGee has to shake himself.

“Uh, n-nothing,” he finally stammers. “Looks like you had a good time off, Tony.”

Tony smiles and flashes a quick look at Gibbs. “It was great,” he says quietly. “Exactly what I needed.”

McGee wonders if he would have seen that look if he hadn’t been watching Tony so closely. Tony is still who he is, and openly putting himself out there is not Tony’s style. McGee watches as Tony putters about at his desk, and swears as he pulls his email up, muttering under his breath about emails multiplying while he was on vacation.

“Did you go somewhere sunny?” Bishop asks him.

“Went sailing,” Tony grins. “I love the open water. It was awesome.”

Bishop gives him a look and tilts her head toward Gibbs. Tony responds with the tiniest of nods. Yes, Gibbs had taken him sailing, and probably on a boat that Gibbs had built himself.

For a second McGee almost jumps. He thinks he sees a ring flashing on Tony’s ring finger. But when he gets up supposedly to go the restroom and comes back, he sees that Tony isn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that there is a tan line where he had evidently been wearing a ring on their vacation. If Gibbs had the kind of skin to tan, McGee would bet that he, too, would have a tan line in the exact same place Tony does. And suddenly McGee wonders if that is the only tan line that Tony has. Knowing Tony’s hedonistic tendencies (something he and Abby had decided was another true thing about Tony), he could have been completely naked for the entire time they were away alone on a boat together, and this thought makes him blush.

“Probie?” Tony’s voice breaks into his reverie.

“Yeah, Tony?”

“You’re staring at me,” Tony says gently. “Please stop.”

“S-sorry,” McGee lowers his eyes, feeling his face turn red.

Tony sighs. He gets up and goes over to McGee’s desk. “You’re backsliding,” he says quietly. “I haven’t seen this version of you in years,” Tony makes an elegant gesture with his hand that somehow illustrates the stuttering probie version of McGee that the younger man had once been.

McGee covers his face. “I’m so sorry, Tony.”

“You need to be strong and step up if you’re going to watch Gibbs’ six for me, Probie,” Tony says in that calm, quiet voice that scares McGee even more than all of Tony’s pranks and tricks over the years put together.

“No!” McGee hisses. “You can’t leave the team!”

“Not here,” Tony continues quietly, eyes flashing around the squad room.

“Want to go get coffee?” McGee chokes out.

“I have a full cup, Probie.”

“Later?”

McGee watches as Tony looks over at Gibbs and Gibbs nods. “Come to my apartment after work today, OK?” Tony says in that same scary quiet voice. “You bring the pizza.”

“P-pizza?” McGee says, his eyes and his voice filled with hope.

Tony chucks him under his chin. “Pizza. After work. My place.”

McGee takes a deep breath and nods. “I’ll be there,” he says quietly.

Luckily, they don’t catch a case that day and McGee is able to sit at his desk, pretending to go through cold case files, but mostly thinking ahead to what the conversation at Tony’s will be like, and surreptitiously watching Tony and Gibbs. Although it was probably safer to watch Tony rather than Gibbs, so McGee finds himself surreptitiously watching Tony and grinning sheepishly every time Tony catches him doing it.

Abby texts him to let him know that Tony has asked her out to lunch to talk. Later Abby tells him that Tony had kept their conversation only about the two of them, and she had focused on her own apologies and making her own amends with him. He had given no hints about staying or leaving the MCRT or what he would be speaking to McGee about later that evening, and Abby had not been able to ask him any questions, since Tony had been so serious and she’d needed to make things right too. She hadn’t been blameless, by any means, and Tony had accepted her apology and things were finally right between them again.

McGee sighs, both wishing that the day would go faster and hoping it would slow down as he both looked forward to and dreaded clearing the air with Tony. A big part of him is worried that regardless of the outcome of their conversation, that Tony has already made the decision to leave the MCRT.

He gets a text from Tony around mid-afternoon.

_McStaremaster, you’re going to make me think you have a crush on me. Stop staring! I’m taken._

He blushes and looks up from his phone. He flashes a guilty look at Tony and sees him shake his head at him.

He quickly types back a reply:

_I’m too scared to stare at Gibbs. Sorry for staring. I’ll stop now._

Tony flashes him a grin. They work quietly in the bullpen, but then Gibbs calls him into a briefing in MTAC where he stays until the end of day, so McGee ends up staring at Gibbs’ and Tony’s empty desks instead. He goes down for a quick chat with Abby, who hugs him and tells him that everything will turn out fine, and urges him to study the index cards that they prepared for him for his conversation with Tony.

Finally, Gibbs calls him from MTAC to let him and Bishop leave for the day and that he and DiNozzo would be in MTAC for a while. Soon after, McGee gets a text from Tony letting him know that he should show up at his apartment later – around 2200 or reschedule. He replies to let him know he will be there at 2200.

When he shows up bearing pizza at 2200, a tired-looking Tony opens the door. Tony looks freshly showered, hair still damp, and he has on a plain white t-shirt and comfortable looking ripped blue jeans. His feet are bare. It is the first time McGee has seen Tony dressed so casually, perhaps even carelessly, and McGee has seen Tony naked in the locker room, so that is saying a lot. He wonders what version of Tony he will get tonight.

“Is Gibbs here?” McGee asks.

Tony smiles. “He’s getting some basement time. I’ll head home after we’re done here.” He ushers McGee in. “What kind of pizza did you bring?”

“Your favorite, sausage, pepperoni, extra cheese.”

Tony grins. “Excellent. I have beer. Although Abby warned me not to give you any scotch. Something about you not being a very happy drunk?”

Tony motions to McGee to sit on his sofa as he grabs beers from his fridge and plops himself down next to McGee. His huge TV is on, the volume muted. It is one of the newer James Bond movie, although McGee is not sure which one.

McGee colors. “I drank too much after that night at Gibbs’ – and your – house, cause I may have been pretty upset about my behavior, Tony,” he says. “I really am so, so sorry. My brain thought things and then my mouth said completely different things, and in such a different tone of voice. I’m such an idiot. And a horrible, terrible person.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” Tony sighs as he opens the box and grabs a slice. He takes a bite and moans with pleasure. “You wouldn’t believe just how long I’ve gone without pizza,” he says around a huge mouthful of it.

“I’m so sorry I said those things, Tony. And I’m so sorry I put you off pizza. Gibbs told me I had.”

“Tim, seriously, it’s fine, OK? I’m not mad anymore.”

“I don’t know how you can’t be,” McGee hangs his head. “I’ve been thinking through my behavior for the past twelve years, and I can’t see too many good things there, Tony. I was just awful to you.”

“I was just as awful back, Tim,” Tony smiles back easily. “Gibbs tells me it’s what family does to each other. Stupid, hateful things, for dumb, petty reasons, even while we love each other. I’ll take his word for it. My idea of family is everyone drinking themselves to death and lying through their teeth about just about everything.”

“I’m still sorry, OK,” McGee says quietly. “I was especially horrible to you while Gibbs was in Mexico, and then after he came back.”

Tony stops chewing and gives McGee a serious look. “Timothy, listen to me. You don’t need to flog yourself for all this stuff from years and years ago. We’re way past that stuff. I don’t hold it against you. We were all lost without Gibbs, and went a little crazy when he was gone and when he came back.”

“But you had no one, Tony. We had you. We had you to keep us together, and we had you to yell at when we needed to yell at somebody. You had no one. And Gibbs _left_ you.”

Tony’s smile is sad. “He didn’t remember me, Tim. He didn’t remember that there was an ‘us’. Anyway, this is something he and I have worked out, and I don’t hold a grudge against him or any of you about anything that happened during that time.”

“How did you even get through all that, all by yourself?”

Tony sighs. “Gibbs taught me a lot of things. The main thing, is you never leave anyone behind. So while he was gone, I knew I had to keep us together because I didn’t want to be the guy to leave you all behind, and second, I knew he would come back eventually because he wouldn’t have left us behind either. I knew he’d be back. I knew I was only a placeholder, but I also knew if I didn’t hold it in place, Gibbs wouldn’t have anything to come back to. So I didn’t have a choice.”

“You’re not a placeholder, Tony.”

Tony gives him a look, one eyebrow raised.

“Well not anymore, anyway,” McGee pouts.

Tony smiles at McGee’s honesty. “Anyway, I was saying, I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Tony smiles. “Not with Gibbs, I don’t,” he says softly. “So let’s just say that you’ve apologized…”

“For everything – from the beginning until our last godawful conversations, the ones that I’m so fucking ashamed of myself for…”

“And,” Tony interrupts him, “Let’s say that I’ve accepted your apology. Let’s also say that I’ve apologized for all the crap I’ve put you through and you’ve accepted my apology.”

“I’ve been analyzing all your behavior too, Tony, and it all makes sense. You really don’t have anything to apologize to me for. You did what you needed to to train me, and to get me field worthy, and…”

“Fuck, Tim, don’t tell me there’s a spreadsheet with my behavior out there now?”

McGee makes a face. “There may or may not be one or more spreadsheets, and there may or may not be several pie charts, and data flows.”

Tony laughs helplessly. “Probie, I _am_ going to miss you.”

“Tony, tell me you haven’t already decided to leave the team,” McGee’s heart is pounding, and his breathing accelerated.

Tony looks at his fingernails for a moment, flicking imaginary dirt off of them, before raising his eyes to McGee’s. He nods once. “Yeah. I have. I’ve thought about it a lot these past few days, and in the end I think it will be best for everyone.”

“What does Gibbs think?”

“Jet likes for me to make my own decisions. This is my decision. It’s a logical one,” Tony breathes out heavily, lips pursed. “I’m capable of being a Team Lead. And you, I’ve personally trained you for over a decade, so I’m OK with you watching Gibbs’ six in my absence. It’s time I let go of some of my own fantasies.” Tony smiles, brilliant but sad.

“Fuck, Tony. You have to give me a chance to make this up to you. Don’t do this to me!”

Tony looks at him solemnly. “You’re ready to be a Senior Field Agent now, Probie. Hell, you’ve been ready for a while. It’s not fair for me to hold you back.”

“But I don’t want to be anybody’s Senior Field Agent but yours!” McGee practically yells this out, which surprises him. In all his thinking, spreadsheets, and analyses, this conclusion had never come up. But now that he has said it, he finds it to be one of the truest things about himself. He really does want to be Tony’s SFA.

“What?” McGee’s outburst manages to stump Tony.

“Look, I always thought that we stayed because we were loyal to Gibbs. You and I. We both know you could have left ten years ago and become a great Team Lead. And I could have done different things with my life, including becoming a Senior Field Agent. But I wanted to stay with you and with Gibbs. And obviously, you wanted to stay with Gibbs. For more reasons than I wanted to stay with Gibbs,” McGee starts talking fast now, abandoning his mental note cards and talking points, instead choosing now to speak from his heart. “I always figured that when Gibbs retires, Vance would give you the MCRT and I’d be your second. And that was how I always thought it would be.”

Tony stares at McGee, shocked. “You want to be _my_ Senior Field Agent?” he finally says.

“Well, yeah! You’re the best there is!”

Tony takes a deep breath, eyes wide, barely blinking. “Huh,” he says quietly.

“Huh!? That’s all you got for me?”

“You’ve surprised me, OK? Never thought you’d feel this way.”

“Well, I do,” McGee says fiercely. “Besides, I can’t be the guy who makes you leave Gibbs’ team. How would I live with myself? Seriously? You’ve loved him all these years and you’ve stayed with him all these years. Since I’m the one who fucked up, I should be the one to leave. Not you.”

Tony drops the pizza and rubs his temple slowly. “Huh,” he says again.

“Not another ‘Huh’!?” McGee is on a roll now.

“With Gibbs’ and my history together now coming to light, it would look too much like favoritism for you to leave the team, Tim,” Tony is serious. “I won’t have anyone think any less of Gibbs because of me. It’s not happening. The only logical solution is for me to leave the team, and this way there won’t be any hint of inappropriate behavior on his part.”

“No, Tony. That’s not right. Just cause I’m an asshole doesn’t mean we have to rethink everything, right? I’ve looked back on how you and Gibbs have behaved through the years, and if anything, Gibbs is harder on you at work than on any of us. He shows no favoritism whatsoever to you. So anyone claiming otherwise would need a fucking headslap, if they think that that’s the reason why you should leave our team,” McGee argues fiercely.

Tony stares at McGee in silence, biting his lip, indecision in his eyes.

“And don’t you ‘Huh’ me again, Tony DiNozzo!” McGee’s vehemence surprises even himself. “We’re the best fucking team in the world. We don’t like change, and that’s who we are. Don’t leave us.”

Tony continues to stare wordlessly at McGee.

“Come on, Tony. I’m begging you. You can’t leave the team. I meant what I said. I should be the one to leave, not you.”

Tony frowns and purses his lips. “Do you have spreadsheets and graphs about Gibbs’ behavior towards me over the years too? The ones that show that he’s been even harder on me than on you guys?”

“What??”

“I asked…”

“I heard what you asked me!”

“Well, do you?”

“Course I do.”

“How thorough are they?”

“This is me. Of course they’re thorough. Very thorough.”

“Balanced? Unbiased?”

“Yes! Of course! But how’s that even relevant?”

“It isn’t. I’d just like some ammunition for the next time I have this fight with Gibbs.”

Tony waits while the statement sinks in to McGee’s brain. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Wait, you said ‘the next time I have this fight with Gibbs’,” McGee says slowly.

“Uh-huh.”

“That means that you think there will be a next time. Which means…”

Tony sighs, pursing his lips wryly although his eyes convey amusement. “You’ve convinced me that maybe I don’t need to go.”

McGee flings himself at Tony, hugging him tightly. “Oh thank god!”

“Seriously McGoo, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,” Tony pats him awkwardly.

When McGee pulls away, his face is lit up with a huge smile. “Thank you,” his smile widens. “You won’t regret this, Tony.”

“I probably will, but I’ll get over it.”

“You didn’t want to leave Team Gibbs anyway, did you?”

Tony shakes his head. “No, I really didn’t.”

They smile at each other before they go back to eating pizza.

“Besides, Bishop and Abby think it’s crazy romantic that you stayed by Gibbs’ side all these years,” McGee says, his mouth full. “If you left, they would never forgive me for breaking up your romance.”

“Me leaving the team doesn’t mean Gibbs and I would break up,” Tony’s statement is matter of fact. Confident and not the least bit defensive, as if he has no doubts about his relationship with their team lead.

“That’s not what I meant. They think you’re a damned romantic for staying with Gibbs as his second as long as you have, Tony.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “I’m not a fucking romantic, OK? You tell them that.”

“I don’t know, Tony. It’s a pretty grand gesture, sticking around for fifteen years. Even when he didn’t remember you, you stayed. I don’t know anyone else who would have done that.”

Tony smiles. “ _I can’t quit him_ ,” he says, in a fairly good imitation of _Brokeback Mountain_.

McGee smacks him with a throw pillow. “You’re an ass,” he grumbles. “A fucking romantic ass.”

Tony’s easy laugh makes McGee smile. He sighs and puts his feet up on Tony’s coffee table.

“Hey, which Bond movie is this? Can we start it over?” he says.

“You don’t know which movie this is?” Tony is outraged. “Well, we’re gonna have to start it over then. It’s _Skyfall_. Daniel Craig as Bond, James Bond. It’s fucking awesome. Maybe not Sean Connery awesome because let’s face it, nothing is, but it’s pretty awesome.”

Tony leans back on the sofa, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and restarts the movie. They watch the movie, arguing about the realism and the technology used, and the cinematography, and halfway through, Gibbs’ voice makes them both jump.

“ _This_ is what you guys are up to?” Gibbs says. “I thought you were supposed to be talking?”

“We’re done talking,” Tony says. “Grab us more beers, will you?”

Gibbs throws his keys into the bowl without even looking, telling McGee that this is an oft-repeated process, a sign of Gibbs’ familiarity with Tony’s apartment. He toes his shoes off, and pads into the kitchen. He grabs three beers from the fridge, hands them out, and sits down on the other side of Tony, immediately slinging his arm around Tony’s shoulders. McGee watches as Gibbs kisses Tony’s lips and smiles at him.

“Hey, honey,” his tone is intimate.

“I thought you were having some well-earned basement time?”

“Got antsy when I didn’t hear from you.”

“McGee and I figured things out, didn’t we, Probie?” Tony turns and smiles at McGee.

“Yup,” McGee grins, sipping his beer.

“What did you guys figure out?”

“Tony’s staying!” McGee says excitedly.

“Yeah?” Gibbs turns to Tony. “Really? I thought you’d already decided to leave?”

“McGee talked me down,” Tony shrugs. “Plus his idea of the future kind of coincided with mine.”

“Really?” McGee says.

“Yeah, Probie. Although I suppose I’ll have to break myself of the habit of calling you Probie by then.”

“I don’t even care anymore. Sometimes I even call myself Probie when I do a bonehead thing,” McGee says with pride.

Gibbs laughs at this exchange. He gives Tony another kiss and relaxes, putting his feet on the coffee table. “You sure, honey? You can’t just let your career stall because of me,” Gibbs tells him softly. “You’ve put it on hold long enough for me.”

Tony makes a rude noise. As if his career is more important than Gibbs. “Just shut up. I’ve made my decision,” his tone is gentle but firm. “You need an icepack for your knee?” Tony asks him, concerned.

“Nah, I’m good. Are you sure, sure, Tony? You shouldn’t have any regrets. You know you deserve your own team.”

“I’m sure. I didn’t want to leave in the first place. Thought I needed to, but Probie thinks we can work it out,” Tony shrugs and leans into Gibbs’ embrace, putting his head on the older man’s shoulder.

“If you’re sure.”

Tony makes the rude noise again. “And we’re done talking about this now, Jet.”

Gibbs nods and nuzzles Tony’s neck before he relaxes again. “What are we watching?” he asks.

“ _Skyfall_.”

“What? Not again!”

“McGee hasn’t watched it!”

“Seriously? Even _I’ve_ watched this movie, Elf Lord! Several times.”

“Hey, I’m not the one married to the fucking movie addict,” McGee’s comeback is quick.

“He has a point,” Tony says.

McGee has never heard either man speak like this to each other, or maybe even ever, and wonders if this is how they always are with each other. Open and honest. Supportive. Gibbs is not demanding or bossy. He seems gentle and calm, giving his opinion respectfully instead of shoving it down Tony’s throat. Maybe Abby is right, maybe Gibbs is sweet to Tony when it is just the two of them. And this Tony is quiet and centered, too, not needing gimmicks or pranks in order to be noticed. This Tony seems confident of his place in Gibbs’ life and does not seem to be as needy as Tony is at work, doing things to gain attention and get him headslaps.

Gibbs chuckles softly. “Is there more pizza?”

McGee passes the box over, and Gibbs snags the last piece.

And the three men continue to watch the movie, Tony and McGee companionably arguing and debating up until the screen goes dark.

McGee gets up and grabs his jacket. “See you tomorrow, Tony?” suddenly he is hesitant, hoping Tony hasn’t changed his mind again.

“See you tomorrow, Probie,” Tony grins reassuringly. He will be there. He’s not going anywhere else now.

“Night Boss,” McGee pulls his jacket on.

Gibbs grins at him, giving him a wave.

Even before McGee has closed the front door, he can hear sounds of passionate kissing, and if he’s not mistaken that was Gibbs moaning in a totally non-platonic way. He cringes and runs off. Even though he has accepted the truth of their relationship and is incredibly happy that Tony and Gibbs are happily married – really he is, he’s very happy for his friends, of course he is – but Tony is like a brother to him, and Gibbs, kind of like a father-slash-scary big brother figure. So this bordered on incest. It’s not the guy on guy action that bothers him but more that someone he thinks of as his brother getting it on with someone he also thinks of as a brother. He would be just as disturbed at the thought of Tony and Bishop getting together (ew, get _that_ thought out of his head!), for instance, another incestuous relationship in his eyes. But Abby, though, is sure to be turned on by the guy on guy action that is going on in Tony’s apartment right now, McGee thinks. Oh god, did he just think about Tony and Gibbs getting it on right now? Stop! And he mentally headslaps himself for even thinking about guy on guy action and Tony and Gibbs in the same sentence. And now he’s thought it multiple times! But he cannot stop the images of Gibbs fucking Tony from flashing through his mind, because he is still totally certain that Tony is always bottom. Always. Or is he?

This time he calls himself Probie out loud, tells himself to shut up, and headslaps himself for real. And hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story, and for all of your wonderful comments! I've very much enjoyed all of your feedback. Tony has no idea how loved he is! I will reply to your comments soon, but I think it's better for me to head to bed as I have to work in the morning. I did want to post this final chapter. Hopefully you like how this ended. I actually gave serious thought to letting Tony leave the team, but in the end, even though MW is leaving, I couldn't make Tony leave in this story. Heck I've already made him leave in another series, so that's enough of that! ;)
> 
> A few key songs that I listened to while writing this story (in case you were curious, since I've been sharing my playlist with you guys) are:  
> * [Give Me Novacaine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZKAwIwjHwZI) (Green Day)  
> * [Wake Me Up When September Ends](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rdpBZ5_b48g) (Green Day)  
> * [Everybody Hurts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijZRCIrTgQc) (REM)  
> * [I Made a Lover's Prayer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lf9ILCiRM2c) (Gillian Welch)  
> * [Miss Otis Regrets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVnAQcRIkZo) (Ella Fitzgerald)
> 
> Click on the links to give them a listen. :)
> 
> -j  
> xo


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